


Chrysanthemum Petals

by Memoryboard



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, First Love, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Politics, Prince Katsuki Yuuri, Prince Victor Nikiforov, Princess Diaries AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-04-28 17:11:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14453952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Memoryboard/pseuds/Memoryboard
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki woke up one day to receive a fancy letter to tea; from his absentee father. That one moment changed his life from just being Yuuri Katsuki, sleep deprived, awkward high school student to Yuuri, Crown Prince of Japan.Hesitant to become Heir Apparent to the Chrysanthemum Throne, Yuuri will find reason to abandon all sensibilities in the most charming Duke of Kent.(Alternatively, a Princess Diaries AU no one asked for)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, yes, update on [Silver Winters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10337136) is coming up. Don't sweat it.
> 
> Also, notes on technicalities and disclaimers at the end.

**Detroit, 2013 – Senior Year of High School**

The first thing Yuuri woke up to was the sound of his mother calling him to come down and eat. He was never often late to school, but it was one of those days, apparently.

He stared at his standard school uniform in annoyance, sighing as he struggled to put the thing on. He had about four sets of the said uniform, but it was so easy to forget to do the laundry, as any eighteen year old would his chores. If his mother wasn’t so meticulous he would have gone to school with a rumpled blazer far too many times.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night, I take it?” Hiroko mused, hurrying to set down the plates, hands caked in flour. Yuuri’s little poodle, Vicchan, was following her around with intent to pounce on some scraps that might fall on the floor.

They rented a smallish loft in the residential parts of Detroit, an old unit that’s seen far too many occupants, but he’s lived his whole life there. His mother kept things tidy—except for the kitchen, that is, where it’s basically a war zone between the flour and condiments.

The walk to school was a bit long, but he didn’t mind. With his athletic stamina, he’d be able to hike up to school in no time. Besides, his third-hand Mustang was in the process of getting tidied up. That meant he wouldn’t need to wake up so early in the morning. Until then, Yuuri was going to have to endure.

“Why are you baking so early in the morning?” Yuuri muttered sleepily as he walked to the coffee maker and got himself a much-needed cup of energy.

“Unlike you, I actually get up on time,” his mother said, motioning for him to come to the table and sit. “Chop-chop! You have thirty minutes to go!”

He groaned. “Yeah, yeah.”

God, Yuuri hated Mondays.

He especially hated the ones he had for senior year. Not only would he be sleep deprived, but the first thing he had on schedule was a speech class. It apparently wasn’t enough that he was awkward as hell, but he also had to talk in front of a crowd first thing in the morning.

Well, there’s only fifteen students in Mr. Schumer’s speech class, but more than five is a crowd. To him, at least.

“That reminds me...” Hiroko paused for a moment, then looked over to the coffee table by the living room and stood. Retrieving a stack of envelopes, she quickly went back to the table and began to sort them.

Yuuri frowned. “Is that the electricity bill?”

“No...”

It was brief, but Yuuri caught the hesitation.

“Mom,” Yuuri said. “You know you can tell me when you need anything. I can work extra hours—”

“No, not that!” His mother shushed him. “Oh, whatever. Here.”

Yuuri’s eyes went to the envelope she was holding out. It was fine stationery, red, strange Bohemian paper—and addressed to him. Not addressed to his mom or the both of them, just him.

He squinted at it. “A wedding invitation?”

“Just read it, sweetheart.”

Yuuri cautiously took the envelope in his hands and flipped it over. When he spotted a delicate wax seal embossed with a strange insignia, his eyebrows rose. He looked over to his mother for some sort of explanation, but she didn’t do much else other than encourage him to open the letter, so he tore through it immediately.

As he began to read the short note inside—written in a very, very familiar handwriting—and began to make assumptions about whether or not he was still dreaming.

“Toshiya? You mean _dad_?” He said out loud, though meaning for his surprise to be kept to himself.

Hiroko shrugged.

“He came all the way to Japan to have some tea?”

“He’s _inviting_ you over for tea,” Hiroko corrected. “Surely, you can make time for that? What time are you supposed to come?”

He closed the envelope and pushed it aside. “ _Mom_.”

“Ah-ah,” she waved a finger at him. “You know he hardly sees you.”

“Exactly.”

“And I’m sure he misses you,” Hiroko smiled; with the same, unyielding smile she had on for such a long time.

Yuuri wanted to argue that yes, his father hasn’t seen him in a long time—that, and he never actually called. At first, he thought that perhaps his father was just the type who liked writing letters, but as he grew older, he started to realise that the said letters only came every Christmas and birthdays. Usually they came with a reminder to his mom about the cheque for his tuition.

Eventually, Yuuri understood that his father was only there for financial support. Toshiya was obviously rich, sending them a lot of money all-year-round and whatnot, so maybe it didn’t even bother him to father a child and be gone with it.

“Please?” Hiroko pleaded. “I’m sure he’d be delighted to see how you’ve grown.”

He pursed his lips. Toshiya would have to come back to Japan soon.

Might as well thank the man for sending him to school.

“Fine,” he said, much to his hesitance. “But only because you insisted.”

His mother, however, looked rather relieved. Yuuri wondered what that was, but on his way to school, he quickly forgot about it for the rest of the day.

-

Coming to school was an actual pain.

Not that Yuuri was being bullied or anything of that sorts, thank god. Although if one were to be superficial about it, you could say that Yuuri was definitely not one of the popular kids.

Not that he cared. Frankly, he’s thankful that most people left him alone, and he did his best to stay at the sidelines while he ignored everyone else around him. The said polarity between the popular people and the so-called “losers” aren’t as intense as they are depicted in movies, honestly; but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone at the receiving end of teenage cruelty.

Instead of dwelling on this, Yuuri focused on college. He’ll be out of chilly Detroit and off to Berkeley soon—or wherever he could manage to get in, at least. If he the tuition wasn’t concerning him like everyone else, he might as well aim high. It’s not like he hoped to get into UC Berkeley like it was a make or break situation, but if he were allowed to, he’d gladly take that opportunity. And if he didn’t, well, he hadn’t been expecting much from himself anyway.

“Yuuri!” Phichit moved over to him, almost slamming him into his locker door. “Did you receive my text the other night?! You weren’t replying.”

“I fell asleep,” Yuuri shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

“Heh,” Phichit said, quickly jumping subjects and droned on. “Hey, didn’t you say you wanted to find some of that rare manga you were talking about? I mean, I could order online, but apparently Lea’s half-Japanese and she’s selling most of the stuff she got. Maybe we can ask to have a look at them and then...”

Yuuri smiled.

Well, he ignored _most_ people. Phichit wasn’t the kind of person you could ignore, even if you tried. They’ve known each other for a very long time, so you could say Yuuri’s gotten used to the constancy of Phichit’s presence in his life, his decision to withdraw from society far too late to discourage Phichit from naming Yuuri his best friend.

“Sara and I are going to stay longer for practice today,” Phichit said, one arm still around Yuuri and his other hand busy texting on his phone. He’s never seen without it. “Might also grab some well-deserved grease at the nearest burger stop. You coming or what?”

Oh, yeah. They’ve been planning about that since last week, weren’t they?

“Hey, I’m sorry I can’t.”

Phichit pouted. “But you promised!”

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry. My dad’s apparently in town, so I have to go see him after school,” he said.

There was a brief look of interest on Phichit’s face, then it morphed back into confusion. “You mean, _your dad_ your dad? Or the Math teacher Mr. Brand?”

Yuuri shot up in horror. “Phichit! Nobody knows about that!”

“Not yet,” Phichit muttered. “I mean, why’s it a big deal? He’s hot for his age, your mom’s single, and he isn’t your teacher this year.”

“Just—No.”

It wasn’t by any means wrong, but anyone in school knowing about it was going to call for some unwanted attention. It wasn’t a justifiable reason and he’s pretty sure Phichit was going to call it bullshit the moment Yuuri started to explain. So he chose not to.

“It’s like you don’t want you’re mom to move on,” Phichit said; rather disapprovingly. “She looks really happy with him, you know.”

“If someone finds out, they’ll find out,” Yuuri huffed, grabbing his books and shoving them into his backpack. “But since you’re sworn to me, it’s not going to come from you.”

Phichit made a zipping motion along his lips.

Mr. Brand wasn’t too bad, Yuuri thought. He even greets the guy every time he showed up at the loft. It wasn’t too condescending of him to ask his mom to keep things down up until he’s done with high school, was it?

“Alright,” Yuuri said, closing his locker gently. “What are we doing for speech class again?”

“Debate. Your time to speak.”

Oh goddammit.

Yuuri _really_ did hate Mondays.

-

Yuuri’s day was a complete disaster.

Not only did his nerves get to him in speech class, he also managed to spill some food at the restaurant he was working in. He had to apologise on two separate occasions, profusely, and swore to work up to redeeming himself. He also ended up getting swamped by various homework assignments, all due either the next day or the day after that.

He just wanted his day to end, but he had to come to downtown Detroit first, to the Consulate General of Japan of all places. Imagine that.

That was good and all, but _Jesus_ , his father could have asked to see him in one of the pretentious local coffee shops or something. Was he really so afraid of Americans that he chose to hide his ass in an Embassy?

“I’m afraid student tours are closed on Mondays,” a man sitting at the front desk said, not even looking up from his paperwork.

Yup, his dad definitely could have opted for a coffee shop.

Annoyed, Yuuri sighed. “I’m here to see my dad.”

“Name, please?”

“Yuuri Katsuki.”

For some weird reason, the man seemed to have shot up out of nowhere, eyes scrutinising. He stared down, as if he meant to look for signs of lying on Yuuri’s face. “You sure?”

Yuuri’s face twisted in confusion. “Yes?”

The man looked over to his laptop, typed something in, then went to look back and forth between Yuuri and the screen. A few moments later, his expression softened a little, and then he said, “Ah, my apologies. I haven’t seen your face in a while, is all.”

Before Yuuri could even ask when he’s ever met him, the guy was already calling for someone on the phone and instructed him to wait a while. Five minutes later, some other guy in a neatly-pressed suit appeared, complete with what appeared to be a receiver tucked in his left ear.

Security personnel. And here he thought his dad was some upper-middle class dude with more than enough money to spare for child support. What was he? A business tycoon? Some corrupt politician with enough money to buy a small country?

Oh, the things he didn’t know.

“Would you please follow me, sir.”

Yuuri was taken aback by the “sir” but he followed the man to the elevator anyway.

The building had the interior design of true Japanese minimalism, with only a few framed photos adorning the walls. There’s a flag here and there, but it’s strictly business and mostly devoid of personality. Yuuri would have felt astonishment at the size of the place, if it weren’t for the creepy man-in-black who acted like a cyborg and snuck glances at him as they rode the elevator.

Was he about to get murdered?

“So,” Yuuri said, voice echoing inside the tight space. “Nice place, huh?”

The cyborg ignored him completely.

He was led out into a huge room, this time decorated with sculptures and furnished with oak wood. It’s probably one of the nicer parts of the building, fitting for reception or meetings. Like how people get their best stuff out to show them off to new visitors.

Awkwardly left standing at the centre of it all, Yuuri felt so out of place. He managed to refocus, though, and looked around: Two others of the security personnel stood by the elevator doors, the one who brought him there had disappeared into the next room, and someone else could be heard chatting over the phone.

The said person chatting on the phone suddenly stepped out of the door where the security guy went into, babbling in Japanese with a speed that Yuuri was still unable to catch up to. She found Yuuri, looking rather glad, and said, “ _Ko_ _nnichiwa_!”

Dammit. Were they going to speak to him in Japanese, after all?

Yuuri bobbed his head, wondering if it were enough for a proper bow, and returned the greeting hesitantly.

He grew up in America, you see. And though his mother had done a lot to teach him about Japanese customs, it was really hard to get used to them when you’re surrounded by people who didn’t practice them regularly. His Japanese also had a weird accent, so he wasn’t too confident about holding conversations with native speakers.

“My name’s Kawatake Haruna,” The woman said, her English fluent, with a hint of emphasised vowels. “Do you speak _Nihonggo_ at all?”

“I do, but I can’t talk really fast,” he said. _Or listen to someone talking really fast without taking things out of context_.

She seemed rather surprised, but then straightened, and smiled. “That’s alright. I’m sure your father’s going to get you a proper tutor for that.”

Tutor?

A deep, raspy voice filled the room all of the sudden. “I think it’s time he came to Japan if you asked me.”

As if the air shifted in the room, quick and almost routinely done, as everyone else faced the man by the door. They bowed to him, a little too low for a casual greeting, so Yuuri assumed he must be their boss or something.

Which was weird, because said boss also happened to be Yuuri’s dad.

“Ah, _Yuuri-kun_! It’s been so long since I saw you!” Toshiya went over to him, a little older than Yuuri remembered, and he was beckoning him to come sit at the round table by the windows. He was wearing a nice _suit_ of all things, and not a hair was out of place. “Come, have some tea with your _otou-san_ , will you?”

Yuuri managed to smile stiffly before he went over to the table and sat. He watched as Toshiya occupied the seat in front of him, while Haruna rushed to quietly order some people around. Yuuri briefly caught “he wanted his usual tea” or something like that.

“So, how’s school?”

“Um, it’s fine, I guess?” Yuuri shifted in his seat. He really didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t his mom, to whom he could comfortably share the little things that happened in his day.

Maybe Toshiya felt the same. What else could you ask the son you haven’t seen in ages anyway? Maybe he was making sure Yuuri wasn’t wasting the tuition money he was sending?

“Fine? You’ve joined clubs, surely?” Toshiya asked.

Some other woman went in to serve them tea, whom Toshiya only acknowledged with a wave of his hand, while the said woman bowed her head low before leaving. Yuuri had been paying too much attention to that exchange that he also forgot to thank her.

And he also blanked out on the conversation.

“ _Yuuri-kun_?”

“Sorry,” Yuuri perked up, forced himself to look at Toshiya.

Hoping to mask his discomfort, Yuuri did what he often did—observe.

He took notice of the way Toshiya sat, the way his shoulders straightened, the way his chin proudly emanating command and confidence. There was something about his father that Yuuri could only identify as controlled and refined, and if you added that to how the people around them treated him, one could only assume that Toshiya was an important man—and he was used to it.

“I am a member of the figure skating club,” Yuuri said, unsure whether this was adequate.

Would it have been better if he were a part of the Chemistry or Math club or something? Those seemed like the kind of stuff someone should be looking for when asking about school, right?

“Oh, your mother told me you’ve been on competitions.”

“Local ones, that’s all,” Yuuri shrugged. “I’m not really good enough for nationals anyway.”

“Nonsense,” Toshiya said, setting his teacup down soundlessly. “You could have asked me to send extra for a better coach. I’m sure you’ll do better.”

Yuuri threw his hands up in front of him, suddenly overwhelmed. “No, no, no,” he muttered. “That’s not really important right now. I’m focusing on college, so...”

His father took a sip of his tea. “You have plans for college?”

“Uh...”

“Tell me,” Toshiya smiled, leaning back against the chair, but his posture still impeccable. It was starting to make Yuuri feel like an uncivilised moron. “About these plans, I mean.”

“I’ve applied to a few schools,” Yuuri said, fumbling with his teacup. “The results haven’t come back yet, so I don’t know where I’ll be going, exactly.”

“You don’t want to go to a Japanese University?”

Yuuri almost outrightly said no, but he thought that would have been rude. He didn’t know why, but the question sounded more like an invitation and to turn it down impolitely would be a mistake.

But since Yuuri didn’t know what else to say, he ended up asking, “Did you come here on a business meeting?”

He internally cringed at how detached he sounded, but alas, there was nothing he could get out but the truth. Toshiya was probably in town and got bored, and that’s why he came to see his son whom he (according to Hiroko, at least) hasn’t seen in fifteen years. He really shouldn’t have expected Yuuri to be so warm and familiar with him.

“Well, I did come here for something important, if you call it that,” Toshiya said. “There’s going to be Grand Ball by November, you see.”

Great. Small talk about something Yuuri wasn’t going to understand. But he wasn’t about to be rude about it, so he tried engaging it. “November?”

“Your birthday. It’s on the 29th, isn’t it?”

Was—was he hearing those details right? Did some of that got lost in translation?

“Ball? Did you mean a party? That’s not necessary—”

“You should understand, _Yuuri-kun_ , that this wasn’t a decision that I could make on my own,” Toshiya cut him off quickly. “People are getting a little concerned over the fact that I haven’t announced an heir to my position. And though I had someone before I met your mother, your sister Mari isn’t necessarily eligible, and my brother only ever had girls too. I’ve been told that it’s only right to present you.”

Huh?

Wait, Yuuri had a _sister_?

“Heir?” Yuuri repeated stupidly. “Present?”

“You are to announce yourself as my firstborn son,” Toshiya said, hardly confused at all. “You see, I’m getting a bit old, and I can’t be Emperor forever. Minako had wanted to come here in my stead but I thought it would be better if—”

“Excuse me, did you say ‘e _mperor_ ’?” Yuuri frowned, the loudness of his voice astounding the security people behind his father. “Is that a Yakuza thing?”

That would explain _a lot_ of things, actually.

There was a pause, and then, Toshiya said, “Perhaps living in Detroit and watching too much television has made you...” he looked up, as if looking for the right word. “Very American.”

“Very American?”

If he weren’t so refined, Toshiya might as well have sighed, but he was controlled and almost too proper for that. Instead, his eyes moved a little, telling Yuuri nothing about what he was really thinking.

Toshiya looked over Yuuri’s shoulder. “Kawatake.”

Almost mechanically, Haruna rushed to Yuuri’s side, sliding an envelope in front of him.

“Open it,” Toshiya said.

Yuuri eyed the envelope suspiciously before picking it up. “What’s this?”

“To remove any confusion on your part.”

Still very much confused, Yuuri opened the envelope to reveal an even fancier stationery, scented and all that, watermarked with the same strange insignia he’s seen before.

It turned out to be another invitation, this time it wasn’t handwritten, but printed out and addressed generally to whomever was meant to receive it. Yuuri could tell that the invited party was specific, and oddly enough, he somehow assumed them to be important people as well.  


_**Imperial House of Japan** _

_An invitation to an evening ball_  
in celebration of the 18 th birthday  
and formal presentation of  
Yuuri, Crown Prince of Japan

_November 29, 2013  
8:00 pm_

Yuuri was still.

He read the contents of the invitation again. And again. And again.

He looked for misspellings, signs of tampering, then he looked to his father and expected some sort of punchline.

This was a joke, wasn’t it? It’s so easy to type out something then have them printed on paper, Toshiya coming all the way to Detroit being part of the prank and all. It was ridiculous, sure, but he was rich and didn’t seem like he knew how to make proper jokes. Was this his version of a dad joke?

Another second passed.

Then another.

Then the next.

But the punchline never came.

Toshiya was looking at Yuuri with anticipation, waiting for a reaction. He was composed, the same way he had been since he stepped inside the room. Considering his propriety, he was _not_ a man with sense of humour.

“Does that answer all of your questions?” Toshiya asked. “Or do you have any others?”

Yuuri couldn’t breathe.

“Shit,” he said, willing himself not to throw up. “I—I need to go.”

Scandalising everyone inside the room, Yuuri got up clumsily, and ran for the elevator. He could hear Haruna and the security people calling for him, but he had slipped into the elevators fast enough before they could get to him.

Once he was on the ground floor, he basically made a run for it, ignoring the look of horror the people were giving him.

He needed to go home. He needed to talk to his mother. He needed answers.

-

“Yuuri, you’re home—”

“What’s this?!” Yuuri held up the crumpled invitation in front of Hiroko, hoping for an immediate answer.

He needed it.

Not later, not soon, but right at the moment.

“Well?”

Instead of the quick response he was hoping for, Hiroko’s face fell, and she sighed. She took him by the arm and led him to the couch. She had to deliberately push him down in order to make him sit.

“You wait here, I’ll make tea.”

Astounded at his mother’s deliberate evasion, he said, “I had tea at the _Consulate_.”

Hiroko froze, looking almost nervous.

She didn’t normally look so nervous, so afraid. Yuuri’s mother was the epitome of annoying optimism—she wasn’t supposed to look so sadly at him like that, and it was not making it any better for him.

“Yuuri, my dear—”

“Answer three questions for me, please,” Yuuri said, feeling weak, his voice suddenly wavering. “Is it true?”

Hiroko bit her lower lip, took a long pause, and said, “yes.”

There.

A confirmation. Yuuri wasn’t hallucinating. Also, he was so close to throwing up everything he’s ever consumed since morning.

“Did you know?”

“Yes.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, hard. “How long?”

“Since I met your father, I’m afraid.”

Yuuri’s heart fell.

This was madness. He must still be trapped in a nightmare. Nothing could be worse. You know you’ve hit rock bottom when the Yakuza explanation sounded much more reasonable than the reality he was currently facing.

“Yuuri, listen to me,” Hiroko said, sitting on the couch next to her son, her voice strangely tender. And by tender, Yuuri meant that she sounded far too cautious, as if one wrong word was going to be the end of it all. “When I met your father, he wasn’t Emperor. He wasn’t even Crown Prince. Not yet, anyway.”

He looked over to her, seeing how difficult it was for Hiroko to even explain the whole situation to him. It was lunacy, this whole idea of Imperial royalty and such, and up to that point he was still thinking he’d lost his mind. Even hearing it from his own mother didn’t make it feel real.

“He was—more or less free to do whatever he wanted. I was attending university in Japan back then, and somehow, by some miracle, we met at a coffee shop in Hokkaido,” she said, eyes lowered. “I got pregnant with you before we got to be married—I mean, you have to understand, we _were_ married by the time you were born...”

“And then?”

“And then, his eldest brother announced that he didn’t want to succeed your grandfather. He wanted to live in Europe and become a normal man. Your father had no choice but to take over.”

Something akin to anger filled Yuuri’s chest. “And so he changed his mind? About staying with you?”

“Oh, no. Male Japanese monarchs can marry commoners, you know. They can still succeed the throne regardless of the woman’s background, though we didn’t marry under any form of royal tradition. We just went to a judge and signed a contract and we were good to go. It was still a legitimate wedding,” she said. “When his brother decided to step down, he did ask me to come with him.”

“And then you didn’t?”

“But then, I thought about it, and I realised I didn’t want it. Being proper, following hundreds of rules, dealing with ceremonial and social events...I couldn’t do it,” she said. “I loved him, sure, but I loved him for who he was and not his position. In fact, I hesitated when I knew about it at first, but he was so adamant about wedding me that I eventually caved.”

“And me?”

“The three of us lived a civilian life in Los Angeles. He and I have never been so happy.”

Hiroko was silent for a while, before she began to speak again.

“I know what you think of your father, my dear, but he does care about you. The only thing that’s stopping him from seeing you as much as he wanted was his responsibilities,” she said, reaching for Yuuri’s hand. “It was me who insisted that you had a normal life before they introduced you.”

“And so he left you.”

“No, it was a decision we both agreed on,” she explained. “We didn’t want to lie to you, but we didn’t want you to feel all that pressure growing up.”

How about no.

“Mom, that’s not the point,” Yuuri _whined_. He felt pathetic. “Have you seen me? I’m not good with crowds. I’m not good with people. I’m clumsy, I stammer when nervous, and I get too anxious too often. Do you know what this is doing to me right now? How unprepared I was to know all that?”

“I—I’m sorry, baby. I should have told you sooner, but I didn’t know how...”

“Of course, you knew how! It’s simple. It’s to call my dad and have him explain everything before I turned into an anxious freak.”

Without another word, Yuuri ran up the stairs, and disappeared into his room.

-

Yuuri woke up from a strange dream.

It’s one of those dreams you don’t remember the moment you wake but made you feel terrified nonetheless. It must have been because he hadn’t had much sleep the night before, his thoughts swirling in his head like an uncontainable cyclone.

What did they call them? Night terrors? He’s never had any before, but it wasn’t too late to start.

“Goddammit,” he whispered to himself, only to startle Vicchan, who was sleeping next to him. He reached over to pet her, brown fur soft beneath his fingers. “How did we get here, huh?”

Miraculously, his mother hadn’t called for him to get down for breakfast. He hurried to dress himself anyway, pulling on the usual, loose, uniform. He grabbed his bag, opened the door carelessly and stepped out.

It’s an unknown science how he managed to come down the stairs half-asleep and unscathed.

“ _Ohayo_ , _Yuuri-kun_.”

“Mr. Brand?” Yuuri yawned, eyes closed.

“Yuuri,” Hiroko said. “Join your father and I for breakfast, will you?”

His eyes snapped open. In their dining table sat his mother. In front of her was Toshiya, an image of perfect disposition as always, drinking from their old tea set.

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Yuuri said.

Toshiya looked at him strangely. “Is he Christian?”

“Ah, no,” Hiroko laughed. “It’s a very American thing to say.”

He dropped his bag on the floor, along with his jaw. Yuuri kept thinking he must still be dreaming, so he bit the insides of his cheek, but nothing happened. He dug his fingernails into his palms, made sure that it hurt, but he didn’t wake.

Well, shit. He’s got no time for any of this.

“Um...I think I gotta go.”

Hiroko rose from her seat. “Yuuri, stay for a minute—”

Yuuri turned on his heel quickly. “I’m late for school, bye.”

He found himself being grabbed by his collar, almost tripping him in the process. Yuuri was thinking about complaining when he found himself looking straight into his mother’s eyes.

“When I say stay, I mean _stay_ ,” Hiroko said; firmly.

She was angry.

His mother was scary when angry.

She was _not_ to be tried when angry.

Yuuri swallowed. “Y—yeah—sure, I’m—” he looked to the table and quickly took a seat. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

“Wonderful!” Hiroko grinned. Dangerously.

Shit.

“I heard that the last time you met your father, you threw quite a fit, darling,” she said, her tone overly-sweet, like it’s hiding some kind of monster underneath. “Now, would you please hear your father out? You’re going to do it, right?”

Yuuri didn’t exactly know what to say.

“Right?!” Hiroko asked, sharply.

It sent shivers down his spine. “Yes. Yes. Yes, uh—” he reached over the table for some toast, forcing a smile. “What’s it about? Hahahaha.”

If it wasn’t for the previous experiences he had with a very angry Hiroko, Yuuri would have left and not come back in the next fifteen hours. But the threat to his life was real, and he had no other choice.

“ _Yuuri-kun_ , I’m sorry for being so forward the other day. I should have considered how you’d take the news before I went on insisting,” Toshiya said, hands lightly touching their cracked teacup. “I know what it’s like to be constricted by so many things, so I figured it must only be right for me to agree to what your mother wanted.”

Yuuri silently chewed on his piece of toast, not at all hungry for it, but he had nothing else he could do to distract himself.

“I knew it was impossible for me to remarry. I mean, look at me, I’m _old_ ,” he laughed—or did whatever you called the poised version of a laugh. “And you are my only son. Had I remarried when you were much younger and the world found out about you, it would have ruined your and your mother’s privacy. If I didn’t remarry and took you with me from the very beginning, you would have been caged in a world of rules and etiquette at such a young age. Understand, my son, that I don’t mean to terrify you.”

Yuuri found himself starting to get annoyed.

“Did it ever occur to you what it would do to me?” Yuuri said. “Father, you don’t know me that well. I can’t stand people and they feel the same about me. I can’t work with grace under pressure. If you keep your hopes too high, you’ll be deeply disappointed.”

The night before that, Yuuri found himself wondering whether or not Toshiya had this idealised version of him. Did he think Yuuri was charming and naturally gifted with social skills? Did he think that dropping a bomb like that would have Yuuri accept right away? Did he think Yuuri as a perfect son, similar to he, the Imperial Majesty?

“I’ll be here for a week,” Toshiya said. “If you’re worried about other people finding out, it’s not going to happen until your birthday. You have until the month before that to decide whether or not you’ll undergo training.”

“Training?” Yuuri almost laughed.

“To become a Crown Prince, of course,” he said. “I really do hope you’ll accept, but if you don’t, well...I guess they might find someone before my retirement.”

Yuuri sighed deeply, not at all reassured.

“Oh, dear. Would you look at the time!” Hiroko looked to the clock with wide eyes. “You’re going to be late!”

“I’ll have Kaizaki drive him,” Toshiya said. “I’m the one who made him late, after all.”

Yuuri probably would have declined, if he didn’t have an important test that morning. Even if he ran to school, he’d still be at least ten minutes late.

“Sure,” Yuuri said. “Thank you.”

-

“What is _that_?”

Toshiya blinked at him. “It’s a car.”

What Toshiya simply called a ‘car’ was a four-door Toyota limousine with a small flag positioned at the centre of the hood.

“I know it’s a car,” Yuuri muttered. “Why are we taking a limo??”

“Because it’s the only car we’ve got,” Toshiya said, as if this were obvious fact. “Is it not enough for you?”

“No! I mean, it’s fine—it doesn’t matter. I’m just surprised.”

“Well,” Toshiya managed a smile, a different one that softened the hard lines of his face. “Come on, now. Didn’t you say you can’t be late for school?”

-

Yuuri walked with Phichit the next day, refusing to take the limousine again. If coming to school with a car like that didn’t make him stand out, the small flag would. That’s why he had asked Kaizaki to drop him off at the street corner, four blocks away from the school gate.

“So how’s the dinner with your dad, by the way? I haven’t asked you.”

Phichit was still tapping away at his phone, texting someone. Sometimes it made Yuuri wonder whether he was still his best friend, and he would believe he wasn’t anymore if Phichit wasn’t spending most of his time with him. Must be great coming to the first day of high school with no contacts then filling the list with names by the end of the day.

Yuuri was going to need some of the that charm.

“Hey,” Phichit passed a hand up and down Yuuri’s face. “Are you okay?”

Oh.

“No, I’m fine,” Yuuri shook his head, shoving the thoughts away. “I’ve got a lot of homework, that’s all.”

Phichit hummed, unconvinced, but he didn’t pursue it any further. “You staying late after practice?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri said. “I haven’t been skating in two days.”

“I _know_. What a travesty!” Phichit threw up his hands. “Keep doing that, and the next thing you know, you won’t be able to—what the hell is happening?”

Yuuri looked to where Phichit was gawking at, and found himself having the same reaction.

Several reporters were swarming the school entrance, interviewing students, their voices a chorus of confusing questions. They were talking over each other, cameramen hovering everywhere, interviewing students who were either excited to be on TV, confused, or generally surprised.

One of the reporters spotted Yuuri as he came closer, and made a run for it.

Suddenly, Yuuri was exposed to a confusion of flashing lights and a flock of people mobbing him. He didn’t understand what was going on, up until he heard one of the reporters say, “Your Highness, would you please answer a few questions?”

Yuuri almost blacked out.

His heart was racing. He couldn’t see past the mob of reporters and the growing crowd of students watching all of this happen. He felt glued to the ground, a prisoner in his own body, unable to speak or move.

It wasn’t until he felt someone take his arm that he managed to stumble forward. The next thing he knew, he was being dragged towards the doors.

“Excuse me!” Phichit shouted over the crowd, dragging Yuuri along. “Yuuri, you need to move.”

Eventually, the principal appeared in front of him, whom in turn managed to wrap an arm around his shoulder and help him step into the safety of the school. Anyone who wasn’t a student or a had an ID was prohibited to come in, so campus security managed to barricade the hungry sharks from coming for him.

“You okay?”

Phichit.

“Come on, they won’t be able to get to you inside,” Phichit said.

Yuuri couldn’t do much else other than nod.

-

“Someone apparently saw him stepping out of the official vehicle,” Principal Gupta said. She looked as emotionally constipated as she usually was, except a little more frantic if that made sense. “The tabloids must have caught wind of it and waited for him to arrive at school.”

They were at the principal’s office, as safe from the press as he could be, but with all the commotion still audible from where he sat, Yuuri couldn’t find it himself to relax.

Kaizaki was there. A man of six feet, pressed suite and all, was sure to intimidate anyone—and was now apparently stationed to guard Yuuri from here on out.

Great.

“How much do they know about him?” Kaizaki asked in accented English.

“They know about his mother, I’m afraid. That extends to knowing where he lives,” Principal Gupta said, sounding like she was pitying Yuuri. He wouldn’t blame her if she truly did. “We can assure his safety in school, but the walk to and fro...”

“I’ll take care of it,” Kaizaki said. “I’d like to ask for a special parking space, if you would so kindly allow it.”

Yuuri put his face in his hands.

This was it, isn’t it? There’s no way out of it?

He was excused from coming to all his classes that day, so he was free to go if not for the mob still waiting outside. Yuuri didn’t have much choice other than stay on the roof to wait out the storm.

There was no way he could face any of the other students, not now. They were going to look at him, judge him, think he’s either lucky or unworthy or both. He wouldn’t be able to stand that kind of attention, at least not right at the moment, not when his mind was still fogged up with anxious jitters.

By lunch, Kaizaki had asked if he was hungry. Yuuri said he wasn’t, even though he absolutely was. He thought about what would happen if someone else found him on the roof, and though it was silly, it scared him.

Eventually, he caved when he got a text from Phichit.

 **Received, 2:34 pm** You hungry? I have free period. I can bring you food.

Took a while for him to reply, but then:

 **Sent, 2:41 pm** Is there mac n cheese today?

 **Received, 2:41 pm** Nope. Spaghetti? :)

 **Sent, 2:42 pm** Ew.

 **Received, 2:42 pm** Back to being you, I see. Where are you rn?

Minutes later, Phichit was already on the roof, carrying bag of potato chips and some brownies.

“Diet Sprite? Really?” Yuuri inspected the can, not sure whether he should open it or not.

“Oh, shush. Don’t be picky,” Phichit said. “It’s past lunch time and the vending machine was my only good option. That, or the gluten-free burgers the Anime Club was selling.”

Yuuri laughed, and looked over to his now-bodyguard. “ _Kaizaki-san_?”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

He frowned at that. “Please, when we’re in school, it’s Yuuri,” he said. “Anyway, do you want any food? You haven’t had lunch as well.”

Kazaiki simply bowed, and with a smile, he said, “I’ll be alright, sir. You should be eating.”

Yuuri sighed. He should start counting the number of heaves of disappointment he’s had from the moment he knew he was Crown Prince.

Beside him, Phichit started laughing.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just—” He kept laughing, annoyingly. “Here I was, worrying you’d change, but then you’re just... _you_.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Phichit patted him on the back. “I’m disappointed to be the last one to know, though. You should have told me.”

Phichit was pouting.

“Stop that,” Yuuri muttered, deciding to have a bite off his dry brownies. “I just knew about it myself two days ago. I’m still in shock, to be honest.”

“Don’t you like it?”

“Definitely not,” Yuuri leaned back against the railings, feeling almost tired though he didn’t do much. “The idea of it alone is _exhausting_.”

Phichit hummed. “And what do you plan to do? Run away?”

Yuuri looked over to Kaizaki, whom was treating himself to a cigarette inside school grounds. “Yeah, I don’t think that’ll work.”

“Well,” Phichit made a popping sound with his tongue. “Make sure to invite me on coronation day?”

Yuuri groaned.

* * *

 

**Tokyo, 2013 – November 29 th Soiree**

One would think that training to become male royalty was going to be a lot easier than if he were a girl. However, time and time again, it’s like the world liked to remind him of his incompetence.

It started with dining etiquette, one that involved him getting tied to the back of a chair. For posture purposes, his father told him, and continued to torture Yuuri with great food he couldn’t properly eat.

“Keep doing that and you can eat without getting tied to the chair in no time!” Haruna had said, as if that wasn’t the strangest way to put it.

The next was memorising a bunch of greetings, a long list of important names (he could mostly pronounce), important dates, which fork to use for which dinner course, which clothes to wear for which occasion. The usual. He had to juggle all that with normal school work, too. Honestly, the only thing motivating him to actually do all that was the fear that he might embarrass himself in front of seriously important people.

The hardest lesson of them all, was dealing with the press. It was the kind of lesson that involved Yuuri having to deal with it every day. From that fateful day everyone found out about him, he was being followed by Kaizaki, and was driven around in a limo that stuck out wherever he went.

Skating practices were tricky, too. Since their club met and practiced in a public rink, some sharks would masquerade as normal people wanting to have a go at the shitty rental skates, only to flash their cameras in front of Yuuri once they’re in the dressing room. His coach Celestino had given him far too many rest days at that point that he could feel himself getting all rusty.

School was filled with whispers, most he didn’t even bother to pay attention to. People started greeting him whenever they saw him walking past, and the others were content on stepping aside whenever they were in his way. Even the teachers have somehow miraculously become nice to him all of a sudden, telling him to do better when he flunked and praised him excessively when he did something decent.

His privacy was definitely something that’s been thrown away into the wind. Being a world-class figure skater wouldn’t even give him this much attention—and that was one of things he could’ve done on his own, not some kind of birthright bestowed upon him.

Yuuri had also stayed away from the internet, and was asked to shut down all his social media. An understandable move, he’s sure, but it wasn’t like they had pictures of him drunk or anything. As far as Princes went, Yuuri was probably the least likely to have any scandal associated with him.

“ _Well, you look absolutely gorgeous_ ,” Phichit marvelled over Skype. It was probably four in the morning in Detroit, but Phichit was so used to trading off sleep with the pleasure of watching his favourite movies that it wasn’t really all that surprising. “ _Who knew you could pull off that hair_?”

“I always do this to my hair every competition.”

“ _Yeah, but not with that haircut, though_! _Royal life suits you, my dear_.”

“Oh stop,” Yuuri said. “I’m probably going to mess up later, who knows?”

“ _Don’t be like that_ ,” Phichit frowned; already sensing Yuuri’s nervousness though he’s an ocean away. “ _Yuuri, you’ll do_ fine _. Do what you always do_ _i_ _n competitions_.”

“I panic in competitions.”

“ _Then do what you always do on good days_. _It’s not like you never won any, you idiot_. _Come on_.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you, Phichit.”

At least there was still one other person who still treated him the same way, the other one being his mother.

“ _You’re always welcome, His Highness_ ,” Phichit did a weird curtsey thing that involved bowing and gesturing with his hand. “ _Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an exam_ _in four hours. You can call me up until then. Anything you need, okay_?”

“Okay,” he said. “By the way, it’s ‘His Highness’ when you’re talking about me. When you’re talking _to_ me, it’s ‘Your Highness’.”

“ _I know, I know. It’s ‘Your Highness’ the first time and ‘sir’ afterwards_ ,” Phichit snorted. “ _Show-off_.”

“I was making sure you’re ready whenever I asked you to join some socials with me.”

“ _That’s more like it_ ,” Phichit said; excited. “ _Good luck_!”

Good luck to him, indeed.

“Your Highness?”

Yuuri turned to see his tutor Minako by the door, holding piece of paper and waving it around.

“ _Minako-sensei_ , didn’t I tell you it’s just Yuuri when we’re alone?”

“Apologies, Your Highness,” she bowed. “But today’s a formal occasion.”

He didn’t even know why he bothered.

“You needed anything?”

“Your father asked me to give you the list of guests,” she said. “It might be wise to take a look at them as most have flown all the way across the world to attend your birthday celebration.”

Most of them probably just wanted to mingle with all the other high-class people, Yuuri thought, but of course he didn’t say that out loud. It was not the kind of thing a Prince did.

“Do I have to memorise their names?”

“No, they’ll be introduced to you individually.”

“Alright,” Yuuri raised the paper and smiled. “Thanks.”

Usually, Minako would have spoken to him in Japanese, but she didn’t deem it necessary for that night. Maybe she finally took pity on Yuuri and gave him a break for once.

They did that for practice most days. She would teach him Japanese history and culture in _Nihonggo_ , made him memorise _haiku_ s, and funnily, made him watch hours of Japanese soap operas. He was already half-way there in the first place, so practicing and hearing its use regularly was making it easier.

 _Kanji_ , though...well, that was a work in progress.

“Oh, and Your Highness,” Minako turned before she stepped out of the room. “A lot of young women are here. I’ve heard they’re quite interested in you.”

Instead of actually feeling good about that, it made Yuuri feel nervous.

Which reminded him, oh dear god he was going to have to talk to people that night.

A whole lot of people.

The attendees might be small in number due to the exclusivity, but his father had apparently invited a whole bunch of royalty.

He was going to faint.

-

The party ended up the way he thought it would.

People have already gathered around the ballroom when his father’s entrance was announced, complete with formal introductions, applause, and a toast.

The scariest of all, was Yuuri’s entrance.

It was his first social event as the Crown Prince, and after that night, his title would become official. To be honest, he didn’t even know how he’s agreed to this all along. Maybe fate was being cruel to him and didn’t give him much options. Had he stayed in Detroit, he was going to be forever dubbed as the Crown Prince of Japan, regardless of what he really thought about it.

“May I present, _His Imperial Highness_ Yuuri, Crown Prince of Japan.”

The doors opened as soon as the announcement’s been made. An overwhelming amount of people applauded (daintily) and Yuuri had no choice but to take a deep breath, bowed his head a little, and waved a hand.

The ballroom itself was grand, chandeliers glistening as they reflected light. He’s pretty sure it was worth more than everything he and his mother owned.

“In celebration of my only son’s eighteenth birthday,” Toshiya raised his Champagne glass, his presence commanding silence into the room’s occupants. “And his formal introduction as Heir Apparent to the Imperial Throne, I propose a toast. To Yuuri.”

He raised his glass a little higher, then all of the guests followed with, “To Yuuri, Crown Prince of Japan.”

Everyone drank. And everyone applauded.

And from then on out, it was official—Yuuri Katsuki, was no longer.

-

“I didn’t expect the long, lost prince to look so handsome.”

Yuuri managed to pull a small smile, then thanking her for the compliment. There’s only so much you could do while trying not to step on your current dance partner’s toes, so he opted for polite conversations that didn’t require him to think too much of. Minako-sensei did tell him he was a good dancer, but that was back when he didn’t have reason to be nervous about it.

It was also a challenge for him to keep himself from blushing like a tomato, as the Danish Countess Ella was beautiful, and just about two years older than him.

“So tell me, Your Highness, what did you like about Detroit?”

Oh, dear god.

It took everything in him to stop himself from either sighing or rolling his eyes that night. He couldn’t, of course, because everyone’s curiosity was pointed toward him.

There was simply no room for mistakes. It also came as a surprise for him that several people had already introduced either their daughters, their sisters, or their nieces to him. They were lovely, true—and ranged from the demure to the eccentric—but Yuuri was far too busy trying not to make a fool of himself to even care.

Luckily, all the eligible ladies seemed to have become tired of dancing and Yuuri was finally left to make himself more scarce. He would have to come back and talk to his guests of course, but he thought he deserved a little break.

Yuuri saw a few dumplings on the catering table and felt relieved, heading for it quickly before anyone introduced him to some other girl. God, he was so hungry.

How was he this hungry on his own birthday party?

“A shame that men do not normally dance in ballrooms together,” a man beside him, almost too close to his ear, whispered.

Yuuri jumped at the sudden intrusion, but mentally tried to pull himself together—

Until he found his jaw dropping to the floor. Inelegantly.

A young man, handsome and ash-blonde, was looking at him fondly through blue eyes. “If it weren’t, I would have already asked the Crown Prince for a dance.”

It took him a few seconds to recover from his shock, close his mouth, and shake his head.

“Ah, hello,” he said, holding his hand out. “And you must be?”

“Oh dear me, where are my manners?” the man said, taking Yuuri’s hand. “Prince Viktor, Duke of Kent.”

Kent? A British royal member? But why didn’t he have an English accent?

Yuuri managed to open his mouth just in time to say, “a pleasure.”

And was it a pleasure, indeed.

The Duke of Kent, who was the right amount of tall, was dressed in a fitted grey suit. His tie brought out his eyes and a matching pocket square was tucked inside his breast pocket. Yuuri would go so far as to say that the fit of the suit itself was slightly _obscene_ , but he didn’t need to fuel his stuttering thoughts any further.

“Oh, believe me, Sir. The pleasure’s all mine,” the Duke smiled.

Goddammit even his smile was perfect.

Yuuri was beginning to short-circuit. “Uh—Thank you.”

He didn’t know which was worse, to trample over several Princesses in his nervous stupidity or to accidentally reveal his taste for men in his nervous _stupidity_. Was the Duke of Kent even gay?

Then he realised he hadn’t let go of the Duke’s hand.

Wait.

Was that proper?!

Was he supposed to even be _touching_ the Duke? Was Yuuri causing some form of diplomatic issue just because he’s fallen into the trap of a man he found to be unfairly pretty?

Although, Prince Viktor hadn’t made a move to let go, either.

“So tell me, Sir, do you want to have a whiff of fresh air?” the Duke asked. “I was told the gardens would be beautiful even in the Winter time.”

Holy. Shit.

If he found out that this man wasn’t gay, Yuuri was going to jump into the river Thames and bathe in it for a straight hour.

“I’m afraid I can’t leave my own party this early, sir,” Yuuri said, keeping his tone light but formal. And then, “I would love to, though.”

What the actual fuck.

The Duke’s eyes widened, hinting that he hadn’t expected this particular response, and he nodded with a smile. “I understand,” he said, slowly letting go of Yuuri’s hand. “And that some other time?”

“Yes?”

“Can I come back and ask you again, then?”

Was this a trap? Was there a right or wrong answer? Was Yuuri in the middle of an episode of _Punk’d_ and was about to be exposed as the uncivilised, undeserving moron that he was?

Oh, fuck it.

“Sure,” he said. “I would love that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the monarchies mentioned:  
> I tried to stick to the rules as per in reality, but of course, there's so much I needed to bend in order to fit everything in this AU.  
> \- Mari, though legitimate and older than Yuuri, wouldn't realistically be able to ascend the Throne; and she still couldn't even if Yuuri renounced his title. This is because the Chrysanthemum Throne has never been and can never be passed on to women.  
> \- Viktor holds the title as the Duke of Kent, which would be title held by Prince Edward, Duke of Kent in real life.  
> \- I do not know everything about how the Imperial Household of Japan really works, but I will do as much research as I can. You do need to understand that I may sometimes tweak a few things to make way for plot ~~or fluff~~ so don't use this as reference for anything.
> 
> -  
> I haven't decided on the ratings yet. So, how about you decide whether this is project where I (finally) won't have to bath in Holy Water.
> 
> Tell me what you think! <3  
> -
> 
> HMU [@anna-domini](https://anna-domini.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri graduates high school

**Detroit, 2014 – Upcoming Finals**

“Do you need another break, Yuuri? I’m sure it won’t be too bad.”

Yuuri stared at Celestino ruefully, hating what he was implying. “I’m alright, coach,” he said. “Besides, I’m mostly done with term papers.”

“You sure?”

“Very,” Yuuri said, slipping his skate guards from his blades and propelled himself into the ice.

He hadn’t been doing much other than warm-ups these days. Where Celestino usually started choreographing routines for him, he was now left with an ‘artistic liberty’ to make his own. Yuuri was notgood or confident enough to choreograph routines by himself, but since he couldn’t go to most of the local competitions anyway, he let Celestino focus on the others who could.

Practices wasn’t going to start for the next thirty minutes, so some skaters were still chatting as they skated languidly on the ice. Still feeling a bit bothered by what Celestino told him, Yuuri skated to were his friends were. Phichit, Sara, and Leo were huddled by the centre, animatedly talking while doing some stretches.

“...Sara just got accepted to Princeton!” Phichit announced.

“Oooooh, look at you!” Leo said. “But isn’t it really expensive, though?”

“I know,” Sara said. “But I’m off to look for a job the week I’m moving in. With all the stores in New Jersey, I’m pretty sure there’s one for me.”

“I’ll be needing some of that student aid, though,” Phichit said. He turned to Yuuri and grabbed him by the arm. “Well, let’s not think about that right now. Yuuri and I are going to be _roomies_. How about that?”

While Sara and Leo looked mostly excited for them, Yuuri tried not to frown. “Right...”

He _did_ get into UC Berkeley, by the way.

Yuuri was happy about it, sure, but he’s officially changed his title from Yuuri Katsuki to Yuuri, Crown Prince of Japan about a month ago. He’s sure UC Berkeley wasn’t the type to get distracted by the fancy naming, but all the other schools he’s applied to had very deliberately changed the format of their acceptance letter to suit Yuuri’s special case. He’s didn’t receive a rejection—not _one—_ and some of the letters came from schools he didn’t even apply to.

Instead of actually flattering him, it cast a blow to his self esteem, which was why he started to doubt whether or not he deserved getting into his first choice university in the first place.

“Hey, help me warm up, won’t you?” Phichit steered him away from the group, leading Yuuri along as they skated around the rink. They stayed close to the edge, where most couldn’t hear them. “You don’t think you deserve it.”

“What?” Yuuri said. “N—no.”

“Yuuri,” Phichit frowned. “If you think you only got in only because of special Crown Prince treatment, then what does that make me?”

“You’re smarter than I am—”

“Absolutely not,” Phichit said, still dragging Yuuri along. “Those other schools that tried really hard to make you come to them? That was low, I know.”

Yuuri looked away.

“But UC Berkeley, we applied for it didn’t we? We went through all the shit everyone had to go through and worked twice as hard to keep our grades up. And stop trying to patronise me, I know you have better grades overall,” Phichit said, elbowing his best friend gently. “Anyway, I’m staying late for practice today. How about you?”

“I have Japanese lessons after school,” Yuuri said. “Minako-sensei’s flying back to Japan tomorrow. So maybe I can stay then.”

-

“ _Konnichiwa_ ,” Yuuri called out into the room, dropping a general greeting to everybody else inside.

Haruna and the security guys silently returned his greeting with a bow. They all seemed like they were at attention. This was not the usual air inside within the Consulate—not when Toshiya wasn’t around. Did his dad came for a visit after all?

“Is Minako-sensei here?”

“She’ll be here soon, Your Highness,” Haruna said. “And we have a visitor.”

“Visitor?”

As if on signal, Minako’s voice could be heard coming from the other side of the room.

“...I’m sure he’d be pleased to see you, sir,” Minako said, almost a little too happily. “Although I wouldn’t expect much. He’s swamped with finals and all.”

Minako entered the room, carrying none of the usual books Yuuri was supposed to read that day.

Beside her, was the Duke of Kent, of all people.

“Ah, it’s my mistake that I hadn’t called,” Prince Viktor smiled apologetically. “I know it must be a bothersome that I came to the Consulate unannounced, and I apologise.”

The Duke was wearing _jeans_ , a far cry from the elegant suit Yuuri saw him in a few months ago. He’d worn a nice sweater folded up to his elbows, a dark blazer slung over his left arm, and his hair as meticulously styled as ever.

Yuuri once wondered whether Viktor attractiveness was mostly due to his status—but now that theory’s been proven wrong. Even in civilian clothing, Viktor looked marvellous. They could have met somewhere else as different people and Yuuri would never think of him any less beautiful.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, sir,” Minako eyed Yuuri almost immediately, smirking. “We can postpone language lessons some other time. After all, our Crown Prince is already doing quite well.”

“Is he?” Prince Viktor lowered his head to acknowledge Yuuri’s presence. “Good day, Your Highness.”

Yuuri couldn’t find it himself to speak.

“Your Highness, you’ve met the Duke of Kent, surely,” Minako said. “He’s asking for someone to give him a tour of the city. And I thought, who better to show Detroit than someone who grew up in it?”

Oh dear goodness.

Kaizaki made a sound of protest, but Minako stared him down almost immediately.

“I—Hi,” Yuuri managed to say. “I’m sorry, it’s...it’s nice to see you again, Prince Viktor.”

“Oh, please,” the Duke waved a dismissive hand. “Since your showing me the city as a civilian today, please call me Viktor.”

“Um,” Yuuri stuttered, pulling at the hem of his blazer to ground his own nervousness. “Alright. You can call me Yuuri in public, then. For undercover purposes.”

 _For undercover purposes_. What kind of moronic thing to say.

“Your Highness, you can change out of your school uniform if you want to,” Haruna said. “I believe your father has asked Kaizaki to bring you spare clothes earlier.”

So Toshiya _approved_ of this?

“So, Yuuri,” Viktor said, testing out the name, each syllable rolling so beautifully off his tongue. Christ. “Any suggestions?”

Oh no.

There was no way they were going to smoothly coast through Detroit without the press showing up eventually. Even if Yuuri wore something more inconspicuous, he was still going to end up getting noticed, what with that shiny official limousine and all.

“Your Highness?” Minako raised her eyebrows.

That’s when an idea popped into Yuuri’s head.

“ _Kaizaki-san_ ,” he turned to his bodyguard. “I think we should ditch the official vehicle. I’ll drive my car for today.”

Kaizaki looked absolutely horrified. “But sir—”

“His Highness has a point, Kaizaki,” Minako said. “Please take one of the smaller cars if you want to keep guarding them. Make sure to keep yourself scarce, too. We don’t want anyone getting suspicious.”

Kaizaki sighed. “ _Hai_.”

-

“Yuuri, this is amazing!” Viktor held his hands up as they were driving downtown, extremely fascinated by Yuuri’s old car. The wind was blowing his hair, but still looked unfairly handsome in a rumpled sort of way.

Yuuri suspected that Viktor’s enthusiasm might as well be faked in the name of being polite. He hadn’t exactly thought about how ashamed he would be to drive the Duke of Kent around town in an old, third-hand Mustang—so you could say he was wholly unprepared. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but when he actually had to bring Viktor back to their loft, he had no choice but to introduce the guy to his mom before they left.

Hiroko did take an instant liking to Viktor, so that’s good.

He also hadn’t thought about what a mistake it was to let Kaizaki follow them around in a different car instead of driving them, because now Yuuri had to deal with Viktor alone. Kaizaki wasn’t the type to join in on conversations, sure, but at least Yuuri could look to him for help if ever he felt uncomfortable.

With Viktor in the passenger seat, it took everything in Yuuri not to crash his newly refurbished Mustang and kill a British royal in the process. Imagine the headlines if that so unfortunately happened.

“Um, are you hungry?” Yuuri asked, willing himself to make polite conversation.

 **Crown** **P** **rince Lesson #1** : _There is nothing more rude than choosing to ignore your companion._

To make things more accurate, Yuuri would think it more awkward than rude, and awkwardness is the kind of thing he was so good at.

“A little bit hungry, yes. Although I did have lunch at the Consulate early today.”

Wow. He’s running out of options. “How about dessert, then?”

“Ice cream?”

 _Ice cream_?

“There’s one place I go to,” Yuuri said, thinking about how much money he had on him. His father did leave him a credit card, but he’d sworn not to touch that. There was an unspoken rule to treat the one you’re showing around town, right? “It’s not the nicest place, but my friends and I like it very much.”

“You do? Well, I’ll go with that,” Viktor said. “You’re the tour guide.”

They later parked at a small-time ice cream shop that also served a couple of choice _frappuccinos_ and smoothies. It’s been there since Yuuri and Phichit were ten, and it was his go-to place whenever he was feeling bad. Viktor was told he could get whatever he wanted, but still went for the ice cream.

When it was time for them to pay up, Viktor immediately slid his card toward the cashier. Yuuri took the card and put it back into Viktor’s hands.

“I told you, I’m paying.”

Viktor, however, was not looking at him. Instead, his eyes were on their hands.

Yuuri had closed his palms around Viktor’s, as to make sure that he didn’t move to pay ever again. “Well, if that’s what you want,” he said, then he looked up. “Dinner’s on me, though.”

Dinner? No one ever said anything about dinner.

Yuuri blinked a couple of times before he came to his senses and paid the smirking cashier.

“First date?” the woman asked.

“No!” Yuuri said, red and extremely embarrassed.

Viktor was laughing though.

-

Yuuri is certain about one thing: Viktor has expensive taste.

God knows where he managed to find the fancy restaurant they went to, but Viktor gave him instructions, and it was too late to back out. He secretly hoped that the reservations were full, but apparently, Viktor’s already made one.

“Table for two, sir?” the hostess at the front confirmed, checking something on the list before she led Yuuri and Viktor to a table.

As soon as they received their menus, Yuuri asked, “Table for two?”

“I did plan on finding someone to walk me around Detroit. I know it was ambitious of me to think that it would be you,” Viktor said, eyes scanning the items on the menu, his nonchalance almost a little infuriating. “But imagine my luck when I found out you were available today.”

Yuuri looked down to hide his blush. “You’re lucky my exams don’t start until next week.”

This was exactly why he needed Kaizaki around—well, he was, but on a different table, pretending to not mind them.Yuuri did see him flash an I.D. of some sorts to the hostess earlier, so that must have explained why he had a table to himself. What was he, a chaperone?

“Oh really? Minako told me you got into UC Berkeley,” Viktor said. “Congratulations.”

“Uh, thanks,” Yuuri swallowed. He did not want to talk about that right now. “Were you here on official business?”

Viktor looked to the waiter and called out a few items Yuuri couldn’t catch. “I’m in some sort of vacation, if you call it that. I won’t be here for longer than three days.”

Yuuri didn’t know why he felt disappointed. A little bit. “And why Detroit?”

“Did you want the truth or the embellished one?”

“Why are there two in the first place?”

“Well, I figured I shouldn’t be too forward,” Viktor said. “But it sounds like you wanted to hear the truth...”

Yuuri raised his eyebrows, picking up his glass of water. “And what is that?”

“I forgot to ask for your number, is all,” Viktor said, as if this was some obvious fact.

“Huh?” Yuuri sputtered, almost spilling water all over his jeans.

“I did try to ask Minako, but she told me I’d have to go through Kaizaki first,” Viktor said, eyes sliding to Kaizaki a few tables away. “And he is very intimidating.”

Whilst Viktor was the epitome of suave, Yuuri was in the midst of trying not to squirm. He didn’t know how to handle this latest piece of information, and now his brain has gone haywire. “Kaizaki actually has an interesting sense of humour if you got to know him,” Yuuri said, laughing nervously. His palms were beginning to sweat, and he hoped to the heavens above that it didn’t show on his forehead. “Ah, what about you?”

“Me?”

“If it isn’t so privy for me to ask,” Yuuri said. “Why don’t you have an English accent? I mean, I can catch a little sometimes, when you talk really fast, but it’s not really that prominent.”

“I grew up in America, like you. Did most of my schooling in New York. I’ve only recently come to England a year ago, when my father died.”

“Oh, I’m sorry...”

“It’s alright,” Viktor shrugged. “My mother’s still around, but you know, British succession and stuff.”

Yuuri knew that the succession process was different with Japan and Britain’s monarchies, but he knew for a fact that males were often prioritised. It’s even stricter in Japan, since the throne could never be passed down to females, even if they didn’t have any other option. “I’m surprised to see a Duke so young.”

“Yeah, but you are, too. And you’ll be Crown Prince!” Viktor said. “I haven’t been doing much, though. They’re letting my uncles handle things first. Though I’m honestly thankful.”

“Are you living with your mom?”

“She could, but she didn’t want to. She’s gone back to Russia after the accident—my father’s, I mean. So you could say I’m only half British,” Viktor said. “How about you? I heard your father’s planning on retiring. Are you excited?”

Great.

“To be emperor? Definitely not,” Yuuri winced. “I begged him to let me finish college first.”

“Did he agree?”

“Uh-huh,” Yuuri said. “But on the condition that I keep up with my history lessons. So I chose Asian Studies to multi-task.”

“That,” Viktor’s eyes widened. “Is a brilliant idea. I should have done that. And Princeton had European Cultural Studies, too!”

As the night went on, Yuuri began to notice how much he’s relaxed. He didn’t feel so stiff, he was less hesitant to make jokes and laugh at Viktor’s own. Viktor was so _easy_ to talk to that it made Yuuri hope that all of the people he ever came to meet from then on out was going to turn out like him.

He’s learned quite a bit about Viktor; about how his parents met in Princeton, how he had to live with the gossips and prejudices. Unlike Yuuri, Viktor had known who he really was from a young age, and he’d been trained long enough to have the rules ingrained into him by default. He adored horses, played Polo, loved blackberry tea, and just about as British as anyone could get.

“Here,” Viktor pushed his phone across the table, towards Yuuri.

“What?”

“I did want to ask for your number,” Viktor said. “Unless, you don’t want me to have it?”

Yuuri found himself smiling.

“Of course, I do,” he typed in his number and made a call, then returned it to Viktor. “Now I have your number, too.”

It might have been a hallucination, but Viktor looked _extremely_ excited. “Finally.”

-

Yuuri was brain-dead.

He’s done a _lot_ of studying in the past week that he felt like most of his brain cells have fizzled and got used up in the process. He did not seriously mean to cram, but with Crown Prince lessons with Minako and regular skating, there was no way he could survive without taking a chunk off his advance study time. And now he’s suffering the consequences of his distractions.

“Cheer up, Yuuri!”

Speaking of distractions.

He looked up to see Viktor’s face on the screen, smiling at him, as if the time difference didn’t matter.

“You always say that,” Yuuri said. “But I made the mistake of taking more work than I was prepared for.”

Viktor put a finger to his lips, thinking. The camera couldn’t do justice to how truly _blue_ his eyes were. Yuuri almost wanted to take it as motivation to see him again.

“I think most royals do the same. You’ll have to get used to it.”

“I can’t get used to it.”

“Not yet,” Viktor said. “Hey, listen. Many of us have decided to give up one thing for nothing more than a symbolic title. Don’t make that mistake. If you want to keep skating, do that. You’re going to regret ever shaving off time from what you _actually_ like doing.”

Yuuri stared at his textbooks. “And don’t you like being Prince?”

Viktor hummed. “Let’s just say it’s a work in progress, yeah? I like what I do, sure, but I also love going to the movies.”

“Which movies?”

“Musicals. But I love superhero movies,” Viktor said. “I mean, I’m a true DC fan, but they haven’t exactly made great adaptations, so...”

“So you you’ve been Marvel stuff instead,” Yuuri smirked.

“That’s because I have no other choice, Yuuri!”

“Right,” Yuuri said, looking over a math problem he couldn’t seem to solve. “Hey, have you ever done calculus in college?”

Viktor was out of frame for a few moments before he came back with a juice box in hand. Behind him, is what appeared to be his room, though is showed nothing more than his bed and a few pillows. “A little bit, yeah.”

“Can you...maybe help me figure this out?” Yuuri lifted his textbook so Viktor could see.

“Oh, that one,” Viktor said. “A little tricky, huh?”

They actually ended up answering five more items on the exercise before Yuuri started realising how much a leech he was becoming. Viktor was actually pretty good at math, not that Yuuri expected anything less from someone who graduated from Princeton (and came out whole).

“I think I get it now, sort of,” he said.

“We can do more if you like,” Viktor said, twirling the pen he procured after they got momentarily stuck on one problem. “I don’t have much to do...”

“No, no, it’s alright!” Yuuri said. “I can’t rely on someone else to help me all the time.”

“Well, you can rely on me,” Viktor smiled.

Ugh. Did he even know the effect he had on Yuuri? How smiling like that isn’t the best way to encourage someone to focus?

“ _Viktor_ ,” Yuuri shook his head. “I’ll be fine. It’s not like the teachers aren’t giving me special treatment anyway.”

He couldn’t believe he said that out loud.

Viktor must have noticed the heavy sigh coming out of Yuuri, for he straightened up right away and leaned closer to the camera. “Hey, don’t be like that,” he said. “They’re a little intimidated by you, but I’m sure they’ll tell you if you’re failing, gently of course.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course I know that,” Viktor said. “Don’t you think Minako’s the type to _not_ brag about her student? Dear me, Yuuri. If you’re not content with a 4.0 average, I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Yuuri buried his face in his hands.

“How about we wager, huh?” Viktor said, chucking his empty juice box behind him. “How about I’ll prepare a little surprise for you if you graduate with flying colours? How does that sound?”

“You don’t have to—”

“But I _want_ to. You’ll tell me about it before graduation day, won’t you?”

* * *

**Detroit, 2014 – Graduation Day**

He did not graduate as class valedictorian.

That was Sara, only edging him out by a few points, but Yuuri was honestly extremely proud of her. If there was anyone who deserved to address the whole class on how to live their lives after high school, it was her. Plus, she’s the best when it came to speeches, god forbid Yuuri did that in front of everyone and their mothers.

Yuuri did enjoy coming to the ceremony, though. He spoke to his friends and congratulated them, wished them good luck on college, and promised to keep communicating after graduation day. Everything seemed normal, and he liked it.

Well, as normal as it could be with his bodyguard hovering in close proximity, but Kaizaki was nice enough not to invade within twelve feet of his personal space.

The paparazzi, however?

Well, they’ve been blocked off from entering the school grounds, but Yuuri still had to wade through the said sharks on his way in. He’s probably going to have to fight his way outside, too, but he couldn’t let that get to him. Not right now. He turned his attention to the celebrations instead, making sure he savoured it before he got thrown back into the weird way that his life had become.

“Here,” Phichit snuck beside him, holding out a nicely-wrapped box. “Your graduation gift.”

Oh.

“Shit,” Yuuri said. “You—I forgot to bring yours!”

He hadn’t bought Phichit anything, but Yuuri was ready to abuse his power and ask Kaizaki later. All in the name of friendship.

“Nah, it’s alright. It’s not like we won’t see each other during and after summer,” Phichit wrapped an arm around him and brought out his phone, and took a photo even before Yuuri could properly smile. “So, do you have any plans for today or are you coming to lunch with us?”

“Where?”

“The usual place,” Phichit said. “I already asked Sara and Leo.”

“But...” Yuuri looked to gates, where a mob of people were still waiting for him to come out. They seemed to have doubled in number since Yuuri arrived earlier that morning. “I don’t know about those people, though...”

“I’ve asked for extra security, sir,” Kaizaki said, apparently overhearing Yuuri’s distress calls from a mile away. “Your friend over here has already asked me about it a week ago. _Okukawa-san_ thinks it’s alright.”

Phichit grinned, pulling Yuuri into a tight hug. “See?”

“Fine,” Yuuri said, though did like the idea. When was the last time he’s gone out to lunch with his friends, anyway? Most of his weekends have been swamped by either etiquette lessons or history lectures with Minako. When he wasn’t doing anything Crown Prince related, he was covered in textbooks and math excercises.

“Oh, and by the way,” Phichit dug something out from his pocket, and handed Yuuri a smaller, but nicely wrapped box. “I forgot to give you this other one.”

“You got me two?! Phichit, you didn’t—”

“That’s not from me,” Phichit corrected. “You know what, why don’t you go to your mom and see what I’m talking about, alright? I’ll text you when we’re about to leave, yeah?”

“You can ride with me.”

“That was the plan,” Phichit said. “Frankly, the only reason why I invited you was the limo.”

“ _Very_ funny.”

Phichit took him by the shoulders and led him to the back of the crowd. “Go. Shoo.”

But of course, Yuuri had to be accompanied by Kaizaki due to massive amount of people trying to congratulate him. As if the mob of students trying to get him to sign their yearbooks the other day wasn’t enough, he had to deal with some of the parents who came to the graduation, too.

Minako always told him to be nice to his admirers, which was a strange idea to Yuuri since he’s never done anything worth admiring so far.

“This way, sir,” Kaizaki steered him to the right, where Yuuri immediately saw his mother waiting for him.

“Mom,” Yuuri waved as he approached, his fake diploma crumpling in his hand. “Hey.”

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” Hiroko immediately rushed to embrace him. She was—embarrassingly—in tears. “I can’t believe you’ll be moving out in the next few months. You promise to call me regularly?”

“Mom, I’m still going home tonight,” Yuuri muttered, but he couldn’t help but smile. “And it’s not like I won’t ever visit you once in a while. Kaizaki already promised he’d drive me back home whenever I miss your cooking.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” his mother gently smacked him on the arm. “Isn’t college all about living on your own and becoming independent? You’ll have to do the dishes on your own, cook your own food, and heaven help you, please do not order Chinese food everyday...”

Yuuri laughed. “I’ll be fine, mom.”

“Right,” Hiroko turned suddenly, as if to look for someone. “Someone came for your graduation day! Oh, where did he go?”

Yuuri was struggling to find who the mystery person was when someone stepped close to him and handed him a bouquet of flowers.

Yellow mums. Chrysanthemums.

“Congratulations, Yuuri. Did your friend give you my graduation gift?”

What.

He was still. Static washed over him because oh my god, it can’t be—

Viktor smiled at him. “Don’t you like the mums?”

“Um, ah—Of course, I do!” Yuuri sputtered, accepting the flowers almost haphazardly. “What are _you_ doing here?”

Viktor’s smile disappeared almost instantly. “You don’t want me to be here?”

“No, no, no—I mean, yes, I like that you’re here, it’s just—”

It’s almost surreal, Yuuri wanted to say.

In the effort to blend in, Viktor had worn jeans again (skinny jeans), along with a nice pink button-down shirt. Yuuri was sure he didn’t mean to look so nice for the occasion, but man was he so handsome in that outfit…

“It’s just, what?” Viktor asked.

“I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

Viktor grinned. “Well, it isn’t much of a surprise if I told you, wouldn’t it?”

“But I didn’t know you’d be coming _personally_ ,” Yuuri said.

Perhaps this was a normal thing and Yuuri was the one who’s still trying to get used to it. How many private planes were at Viktor’s disposal? Did he even fly commercially? Did he have the power to cancel all responsibilities just so he could see a normal high school graduation?

Viktor was beginning to look a little disappointed. “You really don’t sound like you want me to be here.”

Before Yuuri could reply, Phichit popped out of nowhere and tapped Yuuri by the shoulder. “Yuuri, we’re all ready to go...” he looked up at Viktor. “Did I interrupt something?”

Viktor saw Phichit and waved.

“Oh, hello!” Phichit greeted back. “Did you two need more time? We can wait—”

“No, um, Viktor,” Yuuri looked to Viktor again. He really didn’t want to ditch Viktor when he’s come all this way, but he didn’t want to leave his friends, either. “Since you’re already here, and if you don’t have any prior engagements...you can come to lunch with us, maybe? It’s not the nicest place but—”

Yeah. He’s sure that’ll work out.

Viktor probably has a meeting with a governor from Iceland, for all Yuuri knew. It was too late to take the invitation back, though, so he might as well brace himself for the eminent rejection.

“That sounds great!” Viktor said; almost enthusiastic. “Are your friends coming?”

“They are,” Yuuri elbowed Phichit, who was just about to say something like, “ _no, you guys could go on_ ” and Yuuri was not ready for that.

“Alright! How about I pay? It’ll be my graduation gift!”

“You already gave me a graduation gift.”

“Yes, but I haven’t had the chance to thank Phichit over here,” Viktor nodded at Phichit, who looked somewhat smug and not at all intimidated by the prospect of having lunch with an actual Prince. Yuuri can practically see his future as a socialite, in between becoming an engineer, of course. “And I’d like to meet your other friends, too! You talk so much about them I can’t help but want to meet them!”

Yuuri put his face in his hands. “Phichit, can you get Sara and Leo?”

“I’m off!” Phichit said, disappearing immediately.

Viktor was looking rather pleased with himself.

“Are you sure you wanted to come eat greasy burgers?” Yuuri asked. “I mean, it’s not the nicest place. Maybe we can go somewhere else...”

“That depends,” Viktor said. “Did you want the greasy burgers, or would you allow me to choose?”

-

Yuuri did not want to let Viktor choose. He did ask a hypothetical question though, assuming that he let Viktor have free reign but not fully permitting it, and Viktor had ended up suggesting the most expensive places.

And so that’s how they ended up in Shoney’s, where Yuuri was treated to watching Viktor devour a hotdog bun in four bites.

“How many wads of tissue paper do you think you’re going to waste?” Yuuri asked him, sipping at his Coke.

“You underestimate me, Yuuri. I’ve had my fair share of sloppy eating contests back in College.”

“And Princeton was supposed to be dignified.”

Viktor snorted. “That’s what they wanted you to think.”

Yuuri groaned and looked to his friends, all of whom were more than happy to watch this all unfold. He didn’t know if it’s because they’re intimidated of Viktor, or if they simply wanted to watch Yuuri handle all the excess energy—hence, delegated him to sitting beside the Duke as if to buffer his friends from how strange the actual situation was.

“Sara’s going to Princeton,” Yuuri said.

Sara’s attention seemed to have suddenly been cranked up on high alert. “Oh, that? It’s nothing, really...”

“You can call me Viktor. We are undercover, after all.”

“Right,” Phichit agreed, shameless as usual. “So you guys knew each other for how long?”

Viktor hummed. “Since Yuuri’s birthday,” he said. “So that makes it four months?”

“ _Wow_ ,” Phichit leaned in, as if to tell Yuuri a secret, but not at all doing much since it’s loud enough for everyone to hear. “You think he’d be offended to know that we had no idea?”

“Phichit!”

This apparently caused the clamour Phichit was going for.

“Oh, Yuuri. Were you shamed of me?” Viktor pouted.

“I was not!”

“Oooooh, Viktor. Did you hear that?” Phichit teased. “We didn’t know about you until today.”

Yuuri turned to stare Phichit down. “I figured it’d be hard to believe, that’s all!”

“You do realise,” Leo chimed in. “That at this point, you telling us you’ve met a Duke is less surprising than the time we knew you were Heir to Japan.”

“I am _not_ heir to a country,” Yuuri corrected. “It’s a symbolic seat.”

“An heir to a Throne,” Leo said. “Already sounds unbelievable to me, but what do you know...”

This went on and on, Yuuri losing terribly.

In the chaos, he couldn’t help but notice the fond smile that slowly began to form on Viktor’s face. While Yuuri was getting embarrassed on a blow-by-blow basis, Viktor was apparently having the time of his life. But he appreciated it, the fact that Viktor was so willing to drop all the titles and the rules for a moment. Though he was part of the life that Yuuri was still getting used to, he didn’t at all feel foreign or strange. Yuuri’s never felt that way, not with Crown Prince training and the new-found fame.

“I guess this calls for reparations, Yuuri,” Viktor said. “Why not invite them to an official party sometime?”

His friends looked rather surprised, if not overwhelmed by the prospect—except Phichit, the socialite, of course.

“Really?” Phichit beamed. “Can you do that?”

“On some occasions, yes, you can come,” Viktor said. “Yuuri’s coronation, for example.”

“That’s not happening in at least six years,” Yuuri said.

“Or his next birthday,” Viktor offered. “You really should start bringing me where these guys are, Yuuri. I didn’t know you had such loud friends.”

-

“When are you supposed to leave?”

Viktor turned to Yuuri with a smirk. “Getting rid of me so soon?”

“You’ve been saying that since noon,” Yuuri muttered, parking his Mustang in front of Viktor’s hotel. “I can’t help but worry about the things you’ve left behind just to attend my graduation day.”

It was almost twilight when the five of them decided to go home. Phichit and the others were going to have dinners with their families, so Viktor thought it would be better to take a taxi back to Yuuri’s loft to get his car while the others were going to be driven home in the official limo.

Kaizaki almost raised his voice in protest (imagine that), so Yuuri had to handle it for a while before his bodyguard caved.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay and wait for Kaizaki to come get you?” Viktor asked.

Stay. Stay where? If Yuuri was going to stay and wait, he wouldn’t have any other choice than to come up to Viktor’s room (suite), a thing he will never be ready for. Or maybe that’s too presumptive of him. Maybe Viktor can choose to wait with him at the hotel bar, which a less terrifying context to be in.

Still, in Viktor’s private space or not, he didn’t think he’d be able to return without a heart attack.

“I’ve survived Detroit without a bodyguard for eighteen years, thank you,” Yuuri said. “How about you? You think you can handle walking up to the hotel entrance without incident?”

“ _Excuse me_ ,” Viktor scoffed. “I’ve been black-out drunk at several college parties and came out unscathed. Don’t underestimate me, sir.”

They both laughed, their voices drowned by the sound of the busy city around them. Several employees were preparing to get home, and the streetlights have begun to glow. For the first time, Yuuri wasn’t in a hurry to leave Detroit.

“Can I ask, dear sir, whether you have important engagements tomorrow morning?” Viktor said, pulling a flawless English accent from out of nowhere.

“So you do have a lovely English accent.”

“Why? Would you agree to show me Detroit again if I kept doing this?”

Yuuri chuckled softly. “If it’s not too much to ask, sir.”

* * *

Google Search: Yuuri Katsuki | News

 

> _royalwatchers.com_
> 
> **The Duke of Kent Attends Graduation of Japan’s Crown Prince  
>  ** by Miranda Alberts
> 
> It seems that an unlikely friendship has blossomed between Prince Viktor of Kent and Prince Yuuri of Japan. The two most likely met at the Grand Ball held in celebration of Prince Yuuri’s eighteenth birthday, where many royal names have been invited, including the Duke of Kent. Prince Viktor was seen arriving in the middle of Grove High School’s graduation ceremony earlier this morning, calling the attention of photographers and news reporters alike.
> 
> The two were later photographed (as seen above) having lunch with three other students from Grove High… _read more._

 

> _chrysanthemumfamilynews.si_
> 
> [Translated from Japanese]
> 
> **Yuuri, Crown Prince of Japan Graduates with Honours  
>  ** by Uetake Nori
> 
> The newly-presented Heir Apparent to the Chrysanthemum Throne has broken all negative misconceptions and has graduated with high honours at Grove High School, Detroit. The Crown Prince is set to continue his schooling in the prestigious University of California, Berkeley… _read more._

 

> _monarchgossiponline.uk_
> 
> **The Crown Prince of Japan and The Duke of Kent: What is their official relationship?  
>  ** by Linda Waters
> 
> The recent coverage of the long-lost Crown Prince of Japan seemed to have been taken from a modern-day fairytale. Crown Prince Yuuri, who was formerly known to the world as Yuuri Katsuki, was raised by his mother Hiroko Katsuki in a small loft in residential Detroit. Upon the announcement of his title, royal watchers from all over the world momentarily took their eyes off the British royal family and unto the most interesting life of Crown Prince Yuuri.
> 
> Recent reports, however, have proved that this was not the end of his exciting saga, as he was seen around Detroit with the Prince Viktor, the Duke of York. Photos of two enjoying ice cream and dining together in an exclusive restaurant have surfaced, as well as the recent visit of the said Duke to America in order to attend Prince Yuuri’s high school graduation.
> 
> It is likely that the two are very close friends at this point, but speculations of their real relationship has been filling tabloids and forums as of late… _read more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HMU [@anna-domini](https://anna-domini.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr
> 
> -  
> also, if you haven't read any of my stuff, know that my chapter counts are _lies_ and may or may not be subject to change.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then they confessed

**Berkeley, 2015 – UC Berkeley Sophomore Year**

“Do you think you’re mom’s going to kill me if she knew what I’m feeding you?”

“Probably,” Yuuri said, slurping the seventh instant ramen he’s had in the last three days.

Phichit, the bastard, had miraculously convinced him to go clubbing a few nights back. And though Yuuri rarely went out, he had the tendency to fly off the handle big time—one of his _outstanding_ qualities being extremely generous with his friends. Phichit would have to step in the moment Yuuri announces to buy everyone drinks, but it’d be too late by then. He liked to call it ‘Yuuri’s spoiled rich kid alter ego’.

And now Yuuri’s broke and it’s only the third week of the month.

To be fair, he did insist on getting a job, but Minako was so against it that she had Toshiya call Yuuri to lecture him on public image or some bullshit. “What do you think people are going to say when they see the _Crown Prince_ serving lattes at the restaurant” kind of thing. Yuuri also tried to be sneaky about it, but once he stepped into a shop that had an opening for part-time work, he was immediately hauled to the side and offered free gifts. He stayed away from the idea ever since.

Phichit considered him, thinking. You could almost say he pitied Yuuri’s understandably pathetic state. “Come on, up with you.”

“No.”

“Don’t be a dick, come with me,” Phichit took to cup from Yuuri and dropped it into the trash. “My treat.”

“That was _my dinner_.”

“Look, it was your dinner and now it’s gone,” Phichit said, pushing Yuuri down the hall of their shared apartment. “Either you come with me and be grateful about it, or stay stubborn and starve. Your choice.”

Oh, he says that but they both know Phichit wasn’t giving him much of a choice. If Yuuri refused, Phichit was still going to find ways to drag Yuuri out of the house and forcefully feed him if need be. He would have accepted Phichit’s offer right away if he didn’t know how much Phichit has actually endured to _earn_ that money. Here was Yuuri, spoon-fed a monthly allowance by his emperor dad, getting free dinner from people who had to work for whatever they had.

“I can hear you thinking,” Phichit stage-whispered.

“Shut up. I’m coming. Jeez.” He grabbed his jacket by the door and stared at the keys to his car. Now was also the perfect time to remember he was running out of gas money, too.

“Hey. Don’t worry about it, okay?” Phichit patted him on the back, his smile as charming and convincing as ever. “I got an excessive tip from a drunk customer yesterday. And I wasn’t thinking about treating you to some place expensive either—save that expectation for the Duke of Kent.”

“Oh my god,” Yuuri groaned. “Can we go now? Please?”

“And you don’t need this,” he plucked the keys out of Yuuri’s grasp. “It’s five, six blocks away.”

Phichit was right when he said he wasn’t planning on treating Yuuri to a five-star restaurant, but any food was better than instant food. His mother had repeatedly told him about the preservatives dumped in three-minute meals and ‘ _and who knows what’ll happen if you kept eating those things?_ ’ But she didn’t understand. Yuuri _cannot_ cook for the life of him, and though not a fire-hazard, he was prone to adding a little too much salt or water or failing to preheat the oven.

“So, has Viktor called this week?” Phichit asked, typing on phone rapidly.

He usually wouldn’t pick it up when they ate or when they’re outside doing outdoorsy things, but sometimes something catches his attention that he forgets proper conversational etiquette and devolves back into a degenerate, tech-dependent socialite.

“No,” Yuuri said, picking up a piece of french fry from Phichit’s tray; just to see how he’d react. “He’s busy with some meetings this week.”

He didn’t even notice Yuuri taking anything.

“So, not your boyfriend yet?”

“No.”

“Getting there?”

“Not even close.”

“So you _want_ it to get there.”

“Hey,” Yuuri set his bottle of Coke down, preparing to say what he usually said; “We’re not together and we haven’t talked about it. I don’t even know if he likes men.”

Clearly that was the only reason and not that Yuuri was a coward or anything.

Phichit had this familiar and almost devilish look in his eyes, it knew something Yuuri did not, and he was about to use that knowledge to his advantage. He brought uphis phone and held it close to Yuuri, enough that he could see the news article. 

> _royalwatchers.uk_
> 
> **The Duke of Kent Promotes British Gender and Identity Movement  
>  ** by Linda Waters
> 
> Every one knows Prince Viktor, Duke of Kent, is a modern-day monarch with new and liberal ideas. The young Duke is a gender and identity activist, as well as an outspoken third-world feminist, participating in related activities back when he went to Princeton University and after. Once again pushing us into the new world, a relatively newly-formed identity-centred movement, has been thoroughly endorsed by Prince Viktor.
> 
> There have several speculations in regards to the Duke’s sexuality. Although not a topic mostly seen in headlines, it is but an unspoken agreement that the Prince’s compassion for the LGBTQAI community stems from openness to his own gender identity… _read more._

“If you think this guy’s straight, then you’re more of an idiot than I thought,” Phichit muttered, looking absolutely bored.

“Why are you looking me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Judgementally,” Yuuri said.

“Oh that,” Phichit shrugged. “This is me trying to tell you that I want godchildren.”

Yuuri managed a snort. “A bit too early for that, isn’t it?”

“You underestimate your mom, Yuuri,” Phichit said. “Did you know she kept asking me if you ever dated someone? If _we_ were actually going out? When I asked why she wanted to know, she said something about ‘getting old’.”

“She is not getting old.”

“Her words, not mine. I also think she’s pretty young-looking for her age, but can you blame her?” Phichit sighed. “Seriously, though. You’ve been in contact with each other non-stop for what? Two years? And you visit each other as much as you can? Yuuri, if that’s not a relationship, I don’t know what is.”

“If that’s what you call a ‘relationship’, then we might as well be married.”

“Yes, but we do not openly flirt with each other,” Phichit said. “Can you see me recoiling every time I’m in your guys’ space or are you so caught up eyeing each other up and down to notice?”

Great.

Not only has Yuuri suddenly lost all appetite, he could feel something stir at the pit of his stomach, all the food he’s managed to eat dangerously in the midst of coming back up.

“You haven’t talked about it, have you?”

Yuuri dropped his head to hide his face. “No.”

Well, shit.

It’s been two years? He hadn’t even thought about it. _They_ haven’t talked about it.

It was strange, his relationship with Viktor. It’s always been a mix of friendly laughs and suggestive flirtation, but not going beyond that. The most physically intimate they’ve ever been were small, stolen touches—Viktor’s hand on Yuuri’s lower back when he’s leading him to an entryway, Yuuri’s tapping Viktor’s thigh when Viktor says something funny, Viktor pushing Yuuri’s hair back when it falls to his face. It did not mean, however, that Yuuri felt any less giddy on the inside.

“You need to talk about it, you idiot,” Phichit said. “Scratch that, you’re both idiots.”

“I believe that is called slander, my friend.”

“Hard to take a thing like this to court without evidence, doesn’t it?”

“Shut up. You took one legal administration class,” Yuuri said. “One.”

* * *

_tumblr.com/Viktuuri_

[A photoset of Yuuri and Viktor’s day out.]

Can they just admit it publicly already, my crops have turned to ash.  
_#Crown Prince of Japan #Duke of Kent #Prince Viktor #Prince Yuuri #Viktuuri #When will my royal gay dreams turn to reality #does anyone know if this ship sailed #am I the only one_   

> **wellberoyals** Why have you planted crops when it’s never happened in the first place?  
>  **fortunelily** IKR.  
>  **royalpaininthebehind** @fortunelily one can dream  
>  **PrinceViktorrrr** @CrownPrincessofJapan I think we can agree  
>  **foreverandalways** Too early to decide, but MAN what a ship. I am now ruined for life.  
>  **Herstory** [reblogged] I think we can all agree that if this ship happens, we know we’ve finally come to the new world  
>  **newamericana** [reblogged from _Herstory_ ] A DREAM.

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t have anything to do, or are you just trying to run away from them?”

Viktor stared at Yuuri with humour, glad to see him after months of not seeing each other personally. They were both wearing thick jackets and scarves that (mostly) made them a little anonymous, but a couple of paparazzi have positioned themselves outside the restaurant.

“So you _are_ happy to see me?” Viktor said, setting down his glass of champagne.

Yuuri looked at the flowers on the table and he was sure what his answer would be. “Of course I am,” he said. “I wouldn’t be missing skating club if I wasn’t.”

That subtle implication in itself delighted Viktor, lighting up his face in way that made Yuuri’s bones tingle. He was a sight to see in his spring outfit, a casual look that’s very unique to eccentric London fashion. Or maybe the fashion part was just Viktor, and it must be a pain to always be seen in a suit all the time.

“Yuuri, let’s go ice skating today.”

“What?”

“Ice skating,” Viktor said. “I always wanted you to teach me.”

Yuuri looked outside to see that the paparazzi (as usual) have doubled in number. He’s sworn to never show rudeness to them at all costs, but if they were going to act like they did a week ago (another story for another day), he was going to have to break that rule and let Minako handle the bad press. She could surely do something about that, couldn’t she? Besides, Kaizaki and the others have already made sure that the rink was going to be his safe space, so he wouldn’t worry about that.

“Do you want to come by while the others are there?” Yuuri asked. “I’m sure Phichit will be excited to see you.”

They rode Yuuri’s car to the ice rink. Yuuri somehow earned the right to drive around town on his own, though he still had to inform Kaizaki every time he wanted to go out. Emphasis on _drive_ and not walk around—if he had something to do that required him to go out of the safety of his car, Kaizaki was going to have to follow him, no excuses. So that’s how Yuuri always ended up having to drive though all he really needed to do outside was to get fresh bread or buy emergency toiletries. Thank god he managed to convince Kaizaki to stay at nearby place rather than actually live in Yuuri’s shared apartment. He wouldn’t be able to breathe otherwise.

“Did you tell Kaizaki we’re meeting today?” Viktor asked, as Yuuri was looking for some rental skates that fit Viktor’s big feet.

“Yeah,” Yuuri said. “I don’t think he’s going to leave me alone otherwise.”

“Aww,” Viktor cooed. “Did I finally win your bodyguard’s trust?”

“Nope. I think he’s the same with everyone.”

Viktor frowned, adorably.

“Oh, stop that. Here, try these on.”

Surprisingly, Viktor didn’t waddle around like Yuuri expected him to. Their rubber guards squeaked noisily on the floors as they made way to the rink, cold air blasting in their faces as they entered. Phichit was the one to notice them first, waving at them from where he was practicing a routine in the middle of the ice, only to be scolded by their coach.

“Oh, Yuuri! I thought you asked for a day-off—” Coach Ellie stopped mid-sentence as her eyes fell on Viktor, and then she somehow turned into the colour of radish. “Ah—good day, His Highness—sir...”

A small smile crawled its way into Yuuri’s lips. Frankly, he couldn’t blame her. Even if Viktor was a member of the royal family, he wouldn’t call that much attention if he wasn’t so pretty. Not that Yuuri felt proud. Not at all. He had no reason to, not in a way that made sense.

“Can we join you today?” Viktor grinned. “Yuuri tells me he’s got a wonderful coach.”

Coach Ellie might as well have short-circuited and blew a fuse. “Yes! Yes, you can join us. That would be wonderful. Oh, Yuuri, you don’t need to practice on your routines today. We need someone to entertain our guest!”

When they were finally on the ice, Viktor caught Yuuri’s arm and steadied himself. “Is she always like that?”

“No,” Yuuri snorted. “I did ask her not to give me any special treatment when I first came. I think the only reason she hasn’t volunteered to coach you for free was that you finished her off with your flattery.”

Viktor hummed, kicking at the ice as Yuuri led them to a sharp turn. “Is it just me or do you sound jealous?”

“Hah, no,” Yuuri said. “Nice try, though.”

“That’s true. Nothing to be jealous of, though. I don’t think anyone can ever distract me from you.”

Yuuri bumped his shoulder, just a little, and Viktor slipped almost immediately. The only thing that stopped the great Duke of Kent from falling flat on his ass was Yuuri’s arm around his waist. “ _Jesus_ ,” Yuuri exclaimed. “Are you this hopeless?”

“I told you,” Viktor said, pulling himself back to position and proceeded to skate again. “You’re quite the distraction.”

They went on to skate together for a bit. Eventually, Yuuri deemed Viktor’s warm-up to be enough, and began to teach him how to balance himself by pulling him along and letting him go. Whenever he was in any danger of falling on his face, Yuuri would come up to him and hold his hands again. It was harder than teaching a five-year-old how to skate, but Yuuri thought it was a good excuse to hold Viktor’s hand. They were surprisingly rough, unlike how Yuuri imagined a Prince’s would be. He thought that someone who’s born into royalty might be a little more pampered, but Viktor was apparently not.

He could not explain it, but the thought alone was making Yuuri like him even more.

Everyone got out of their way quickly, more so whenever Viktor fumbled. Yuuri had to apologise for ruining everyone’s practice every time, but they all laughed it off and cut Viktor some slack. Some of them even stared at Yuuri with knowing eyes.

Yuuri didn’t know what their point was until Phichit, who got so pissed that Viktor interrupted his routine he shouted; “If no one’s going to tell the Duke of Kent to please stop pretending he can’t skate and get a room, I will!”

-

“You were part of Princeton’s skating club,” Yuuri said, hands on his hips, as he let Viktor return the rental skates to the counter.

Viktor smiled apologetically. He didn’t look so apologetic twenty minutes ago, when he indulged Yuuri’s clubmates with a few jumps. Now Yuuri’s slightly embarrassed he even offered to teach someone so much better than him.

“I thought you played Polo?”

“I did,” Viktor said. “The Skating club was more of a hobby. We got together and skated, and some of my clubmates did compete, but not me. I really do better with horses, if you ask me.”

“I can imagine you’re so good at Polo,” Yuuri said. “Since you can do a quad like it’s nothing and all.”

“A toe loop,” Viktor said. “Besides, you could stay on your feet longer than I can, so I’m pretty sure you’ll win when it comes down to an actual competition.”

They grabbed dinner at a small restaurant Yuuri liked—and liked Yuuri’s budget. It’s come to a point where Yuuri was confident enough in his friendship with Viktor that he stopped trying to impress him with the kind of food places he took him to. Viktor still liked bringing him to expensive restaurants when he was paying, but he never did complain when Yuuri insisted on splitting the bill or taking turns paying. It was almost so painfully relationship-like that Yuuri was beginning to reconsider talking about _it_.

“Teach me,” Yuuri said, as they were parked in front of Viktor’s hotel.

“Teach you what?”

“The quad.”

A smile formed on Viktor’s face. “Is that invitation to see you again, Your Highness?”

“You always come without warning anyway, so what’s the point?”

They both laugh, their voices echoing in the dark streets.

Viktor looked around, as if noticing the darkness for the first time, and asked, “don’t you think it’s best to wait up for Kaizaki?”

His face was rather hopeful, Yuuri noticed. There was an invitation there, somehow it was making Yuuri want to come up Viktor’s suite, but not for the reasons Viktor offered him. He would have, if they weren’t in such a tight spot. Viktor leaned closer, eyes on Yuuri’s lips, hesitant and nervous.

Is it happening? Is Viktor thinking what Yuuri’s thinking?

Yuuri placed a hand on Viktor’s chest, firm though a little disappointed. Viktor seemed taken aback, he opened his mouth and began to say apologies, but Yuuri shushed him.

He glanced at a dark corner, and Viktor eyes followed.

Though hard to notice, a shadow was hunched at the corner, hiding among the bushes with his camera.

“Oh,” Viktor said.

“Call me before you leave Los Angeles,” Yuuri smiled.

Later that night, Phichit called him an idiot for the eighty-forth time.

* * *

 _archiveofourown.com/_ _tags/British%20Royalty%20RPF/works_

> Killing Me Softly by PrinceVitya  
>  British Royalty RPF, Real Person RPF
> 
> **Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings** , Prince Yuuri/Prince Viktor | Duke of Kent, Prince Yuuri of Japan, Prince Viktor | Duke of Kent, Alternate Universe – College/University, PHD Viktor, Chemist Yuuri, Student-Teacher Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers
> 
> Yuuri has been a student of Princeton for more than two years, but he might as well was not. He’s not the type to go partying or go on Sunday brunches with friends. He’s all school, and language classes, and chemistry research.
> 
> That all changed when a handsome young chemistry professor, who will make him rethink all the things that he has done so far.
> 
> Language: English Words: 9,172 Chapters: 1/10 Comments: 350 Kudos: 1,431 Bookmarks: 850 Hits: 11,859

 

> Chrysanthemum Petals by Memoryboard  
>  Real Person RPF, British Royalty RPF, British TV Celebrities RPF
> 
> **No Archive Warnings Apply** , Prince Yuuri/Prince Viktor | Duke of Kent, Prince Yuuri & Phichit Chulanont, Prince Yuuri of Japan, Prince Viktor | Duke of Kent, Phichit Chulanont, Katsuki Hiroko, Emperor of Japan, Christophe Giacometti, Princess Diaries AU, Long-Distance Relationship, Politics, First Love
> 
> Yuuri Katsuki woke up one day to receive a fancy letter to tea; from his absentee father. That one moment changed his life from just being Yuuri Katsuki, sleep deprived, awkward high school student to Yuuri, Crown Prince of Japan.
> 
> Hesitant to become Heir Apparent to the Chrysanthemum Throne, Yuuri will find reason to abandon all sensibilities in the most charming Duke of Kent.
> 
> (Alternatively, a Princess Diaries AU no one asked for)
> 
> Language: English Words: 78,032 Chapters: 12/15 Comments: 431 Kudos: 760 Bookmarks: 112 Hits: 5,496

 

_tumblr.com_

**GUESS WHAT**

[Photoset of recent paparazzi shots of Prince Yuuri and the Duke of Kent, seemingly about to share a kiss]

source: marinacloud  
#Prince Yuuri #Prince Viktor #We are so close to sailing #Viktuuri #Is this it 

> **Herstory** [Reblogged] I AM HOLLERING  
>  **newamericana** [Reblogged] When your ship does something  
>  **duchessofkent** They could just be talking to each other for privacy. I mean, how would you feel if you were out with friends and some creeper was trying to take a sneaky photo of you?  
>  **daughteroflight** @duchessofkent RIGHT, they were just whispering really, really dirty things to each other ;)  
>  **bicmitchum** [Rebloged from _newamericana_ ] Guys, can we all just stop assuming their relationship? It’s bad enough that you people are forcing them to be a thing, but why would you assume the Princes’ gender? That is so wrong.  
>  **daughteroflight** [Reblogged from _bicmitchum_ ] first of all, what is wrong with finding people cute together? You clearly have no problems shipping canonically straight characters and reblog hockey RPF with gay themes, but can’t take this one? Second, I don’t know if you meant this to be offensive, but you’re making it seem like assuming them to be gay is a bad thing. I’m sure Viktor doesn’t mind. He’s supporting the queer community as much as he can.  
>  **wellberoyals** [reblogged] wow, didn’t expect this much hate on my (favourite) royal ship. But at least it gets people talking?  
>  **lovewhowewantto** @wellberoyals I don’t think it’s about the relationship as it is about fan girls wanting the boys to themselves.

* * *

“You guys are going viral,” Phichit said.

“I’ve gone this long without social media, Phichit,” Yuuri said, tapping away at his laptop while checking his citations on a book. “I really don’t want to think about that right now.”

“No? But it goes to show that most people think what I think?”

“And there are reasonable people who don’t believe it.”

Phichit put his phone down with a sigh. “They’re not reasonable, Yuuri. They’re jealous haters.”

“And so?”

“You need to claim your man!”

Yuuri ignored him.

“Oh? So we’re doing this now? You’re going to ignore me for the rest of the night and pretend you haven’t finished writing that paper twenty minutes ago?” Phichit leaned closer to him, face hovering above Yuuri’s laptop. “Or are we actually going to discuss what’s going on between you two and see what we can do about it?”

“There’s nothing to discuss.”

“I beg to disagree,” Phichit closed the laptop abruptly, pinning Yuuri’s hands in the process.

“Phichit! I haven’t saved—”

“I’ve seen you using the shortcut twenty times, I know how OCD you are about saving your work,” Phichit said, flatly.

Yuuri glared at him. “What do you want?”

“This is not about what _I_ want, this is about what you want,” Phichit said. “I don’t want to watch you guys dancing around each other, get nowhere, and realise you’re in love when you’re fifty and it’s too late.”

“Do we need to talk about it?”

“Of course, you do,” Phichit said. “First, you have to admit it to yourself. Which, knowing you, I’m sure hasn’t happened yet.”

“Admit what?”

“That you like him. The next step is admit that he feels the same way.”

Yuuri was so hungry. He didn’t need this conversation. What he needed was a quick run to the nearest McDonald’s and get himself some nice take-out. He’s going to have to put in extra hours of yoga for all the things he’s planning to eat, but it would be worth it. Talking to anyone about Viktor when he’s so ravenous was hardly rewarding.

“Can we go to McDonald’s first?”

He suspected Phichit was just about as hungry as he was (or as bored), since it didn’t take too long before Phichit was grabbing his coat and running for the door. And that talk that they were supposed to have? They forgot about it soon after leaving.

-

“Hey, Yuuri,” Viktor called over the phone.

He almost always didn’t call whenever it was past two where Yuuri was, but Yuuri wouldn’t notice a thing since he’s practically still asleep then. “Do you have plans on the 25th?”

“You mean Christmas Day?”

There was a brief pause, as if Viktor had only realised the time difference. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t know—I can call back if you want. I forgot it was going to be so late—”

“No, it’s fine,” Yuuri said. “My mom and I celebrate on the 24th. I don’t have much to do the day after.”

“Oh. Oh great! I’ll tell my pilot to come get you, then!”

Yuuri blinked. “What?”

“We’ll be celebrating my birthday on the 25th. In Russia. It’s not formal, but I want you to come.”

Still sleep deprived, Yuuri hadn’t given it much thought when he said, “Okay.”

-

“OH.”

“Phichit.”

“MY.”

“Shut up.”

“GOD.”

“I just came from exams, so will you please shut up.”

Phichit ignored whatever Yuuri said and did an awkward, happy-dance that made him look really stupid. Yuuri’s seen a version of that dance before, and he was pretty sure that was back when Yuuri had first gotten asked on a date. “You are going to meet his parents! I mean, mom! But whatever, he’s introducing you to family. In _Russia_. He’s sending a private jet just so you could come.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” Yuuri groaned. “I didn’t have the chance to make excuses.”

And he will forever curse himself for that. Normal Yuuri, in any circumstance, would have chosen to politely decline, say something about his mother missing him, tell Viktor that his father needed him. But no, Yuuri’s subconscious did all the work and screwed him over.

“The fact that you subconsciously made that decision is saying something,” Phichit grinned.

Yuuri had no time for this. He had a history class to attend and a very late paper to turn in. If he didn’t do both that day and continued to be distracted by his regrettable choices, he wouldn’t be sure if he could have a proper vacation at all. Prof. Lynn, though kind enough to give extra credit, was going to make sure he didn’t leave school for the rest of Christmas vacation.

“I need to go,” Yuuri said, bolting from the bar stool in the kitchen and walked out of the apartment.

* * *

  **St. Petersburg, 2015 – Christmas Day**

“Yuuri! You came!”

Viktor was waving at him from the arrival section, looking pristine in a dark winter coat and leather gloves. It was so early in the morning, and yet Viktor managed (yet again) to look as flawless as he usually was. Yuuri wished he could say the same about himself, but he was dressed in day-old clothes and handling jet lag pretty badly. Honestly, he should be used to travelling across time-zones at this point, but maybe there are some things he could never do.

“Kaizaki-san, thank you for coming with him,” Viktor said, to which Kaizaki acknowledged with a prompt, almost stiff bow.

Viktor bent to take Yuuri’s carry-on from him.

When Yuuri insisted that he could carry it himself, Viktor moved away and said something about ‘ _mama wanted me to make my special guest_ _feel_ _welcome_ ’, which did not at all make sense—for Yuuri’s jet-lagged brain, at least. As they headed out of Pulkovo airport, several reporters were already positioned at the door, but thankfully much lesser in number than Yuuri’s used to.

“They won’t bother us too much,” Viktor whispered, waving his hand at the reporters; who in turn greeted him a happy birthday.

Viktor’s relationship with the reporters was on the right side of admiration and mutual respect, and Yuuri could not help but feel a little jealous. Or maybe it was only because of Yuuri’s strange origin story that even the most respectable news station liked the idea of sensationalising it.

“How do you get them to do that?” Yuuri asked, though he was sure Viktor wouldn’t get the context of it.

“They’ll get used to you, and you get used to them,” Viktor replied. “It’s a matter of time, that’s all.”

A black limousine pulled up in front of them, and Viktor let Kaizaki load Yuuri’s luggage before stepping inside. They drove for quite a while, and Yuuri allowed Viktor to drone on about the places he wanted to show Yuuri. He took note of those places, making a mental note to write them down later, and thought about how he should ask Viktor to come and show him around. Surely, Yuuri could use the tourist card to get Viktor alone?

“Well, what do you think?” Viktor asked, pulling out a glass of champagne from the mini fridge.

“Of St. Petersburg?”

Kaizaiki sat in front, where he was silently talking with Viktor’s driver (though Yuuri suspected he might be security personnel, too), and was struggling with the language barrier. Although Kaizaki was really good at English (he was chosen to look after Yuuri for that very reason) he still needed time to process changing accents and deeper vocabulary.

“It’s beautiful,” Yuuri said, watching the buildings go by as they drove around. “I didn’t know snow could be this pretty.”

“You don’t like snow?”

“Detroit is freezing and wet. Berkeley is basically a furnace. I don’t think I have any pleasurable experience with the winter,” Yuuri said, remembering how it’s always raining in Michigan, even in the summer. “A third of the year, it rains in Detroit.”

“Well, we’re averaging negative eight degrees in the winter, so I hope you’re up for that.”

Yuuri looked at Viktor in horror. “ _negative eight_?”

“Celsius,” Viktor clarified.

Which didn’t mean anything to Yuuri since he didn’t know how to convert the numbers.

“It’s about seventeen to eighteen in Fahrenheit,” Viktor snorted. “Americans.”

Yuuri playfully shoved him. “Shut up.”

“Seriously though, why don’t you just switch to the metric system like the rest of the world? It’s making things difficult and doesn’t benefit anyone.”

“I don’t know, ask the school system,” Yuuri muttered. “And hey, you lived in New York for so long. It’s not like I’m the only one.”

“Yeah, but my mother likes to talk about the weather in Celsius,” he said. “You should see her talking to the neighbours whenever I get a fever.”

They arrive at a manor not long after. By any right, it wasn’t much of a manor as it was close to a castle, with it’s gates high up and surrounded a vast front yard, complete with bird baths and fountains. Yuuri didn’t know how wealthy Viktor’s mother was before she married his late father, but Viktor did mention being distant relatives with a former Tsar once.

“Welcome, Crown Prince Yuuri,” a man who opened the car door beckoned him into the house, where two large, varnished wooden doors stood proud.

The Japanese Imperial Family was by no means rich, their allowances limited at best, though Yuuri experienced grandeur before. Viktor’s family home, however, was so much more than Yuuri’s ever seen.

“It’s my grandfather’s,” Viktor said. “My mother’s sister passed before my grandparents did, so the property all went to us.”

“Did you ever live here?”

“Only during the summers,” Viktor shrugged. “Although I still spent most of them in London.”

And understandably so. It was kind of sad that Viktor didn’t have much time spent at a lovely place where most of his family would be, but Yuuri didn’t fare that much better in that department as well, so he really shouldn’t feel pity. He had asked Hiroko about his grandparents before, but his mother wouldn’t say much except that ‘they didn’t like how she turned out’, so Yuuri stopped asking.

“ _Vitenka_? Is that Prince Yuuri?”

A woman in her fifties walked towards them. Yuuri could tell that she had aged gracefully throughout the years. Her hair, though grey, was put up in an elegant bun. She’s got a beautiful face, blue eyes unmistakably similar to Viktor’s own, and an air about her that was regal, proper, and almost intimidating. She was lovely, Yuuri thought, and no wonder Viktor was the same.

Viktor placed a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, gentle, and gave him a little push toward his mother. “Mama, this is Yuuri. Yuuri, meet Anna, my mom.”

“Hello,” Yuuri smiled.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were so _handsome_ ,” she said. “Wonderful choice, _Vitenka_.”

Yuuri didn’t miss how Viktor turned uncharacteristically red, eyes wide and surprised. “ _Mama_ , we talked about this. No harassing him while he’s here.”

“And no one should do that except you?” Anna raised her eyebrows, then her eyes slid to Yuuri. “He’s never harassed you, did he?”

Blood rushed to Yuuri’s ears. “N-no?”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Mama!” Viktor squealed. “I’ll show him to his room, _da_? Come on, Yuuri.”

As Viktor was leading him to the stairs, Anna called out, “Be good, boys!”, and Viktor was suddenly walking so fast that Yuuri struggled to keep up.

-

It turned out that Yuuri had yet to know so much about Viktor.

For example, Yuuri didn’t know that Viktor was the best of friends with Christophe Giacometti, British TV Drama Behemoth. He’s been in several TV series spanning various genres, and Yuuri couldn’t believe that despite the people he’s met, he still found himself incredibly starstruck.

“Oh, dear. Look at _you_ ,” Christophe moved to eye Yuuri up and down, holding out his hand.

When Yuuri went for a handshake, Christophe took his hand and held it up to his lips instead. A perfectly normal gesture from Chris, or so the tabloids told Yuuri.

“Forgive Chris,” Viktor said. “He has no manners.”

“Why? Does the Crown Prince of Japan have the same ‘no touching’ rules, or does that only apply when you’re around?”

“Call me Yuuri, please,” Yuuri said, smiling sheepishly. “And no, there are no rules against it, but it would be so much better if I had your autograph.”

Chris’ eyes went wide, surprised at the comment, and snorted. “He’s not as shy as I thought he’d be. Viktor, all your stories about him have been misleading.”

Yuuri laughed. “Do tell.”

“Oh, you see—”

“There is nothing to tell, I’m afraid,” Viktor cut in. He looked to be almost sweating. “Come on, now. My cousin Yura is going to arrive soon. He doesn’t want to be kept waiting.”

“Perhaps he should be the Duke and not you,” Chris commented.

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Viktor said. “Well, you know where your room is, Chris. Come on, now. Before Yuuri here files for a sexual harassment case.”

They both watched as Chris sashayed up the stairs, letting Viktor’s butlers follow him as he went. It was obvious that everyone was used to him being there, butlers and maids greeting him with the same familiar warmth as they did Viktor.

“Autograph? Really?”

Yuuri turned to Viktor, who looked a little better since Chris left. “Why? You didn’t tell me you were friends with him. You could say I’m a bit surprised.”

“Did it matter if I told you?”

“Of course it would! Phichit and I have watched his TV shows.”

Viktor gagged. “All of them?”

“Most of them,” Yuuri said. “The HBO stuff is pretty intense, though.”

“Agreed,” Viktor said, cringing a little. “The weirdest thing that’s happened to me is accidentally seeing my best friend’s dick. Never happening again. Ugh.”

“But you watched it anyway.”

“Oh my god. It won an _Emmy_ , okay?”

“For Christophe’s dick.”

“Shut up,” Viktor said, pointing a finger at Yuuri. “You are not allowed to talk to him. Not when I’m not around.”

Yuuri flicked Viktor’s pointed finger away. “So controlling,” he said. “Why? Do you have secrets you don’t want me to know?”

“ _No_ ,” Viktor grumbled. “You know what, let’s have a walk in the gardens shall we? Then you can meet my annoying cousin as soon as he arrives.”

The said cousin arrived shortly after they were walking around the gardens, clad in loud animal print jacket and all things leather. It’s safe to say that he was at the age where he still didn’t know who he was; nothing spelled teenage angst than expressing bad-assery in your wardrobe. Not that Yuuri’s ever gone through that phase, but he did go through a strange point in his life where he spent his afternoons watching television.

“Viktor!” the boy shouted from where he stood at the gate, handing his bags to the butlers. “You said you’d come get me at the airport, you piece of shit!”

He spoke in English, Yuuri noticed, albeit a little textbook. His accent was much thicker, putting strained effort in trying to shape the words in his tongue like he wasn’t so used to it.

Viktor once mentioned that he could speak Russian, although he still needed a little more practice to keep up with it. It probably explained why everyone else chose to speak in English when speaking to him.

“ _Yuratchka_ , glad to see you too!” Viktor waved back, smiling, apparently choosing to ignore the colourful cursing he’s just been served. “How was your flight?”

“Shitty,” he said, then his green eyes went to Yuuri, and he huffed. He stuck his thumb out and pointed Yuuri’s way. “This him?”

Again, Viktor placed his hand on Yuuri’s back, gesturing to the said cousin. “Yuuri, this is _Yuratchka_. Yuri Plisetski. I’m sorry he doesn’t have manners either, but we can work with that.”

“ _Either_? Is Giacometti here?”

“Of course, he is.”

“Ew,” Yuri attention went back to Yuuri again, and pointed a finger at him accusingly. “So you’re the one’s been keeping this idiot distracted? He was supposed to come get me and didn’t, so I had to call for a taxi.”

Yuuri almost wanted to laugh, but for some reason his gut told him it wouldn’t be so wise. “Hi, Yuri.”

“And you have _my_ name, too,” Yuri muttered, then turned away and left without warning.

“Well, look at that,” Viktor said, watching his cousin come up the stairs to the canopy. “He’s taking a liking to you, I think.”

“You think?”

“He normally doesn’t talk to people at all, you see. So I guess you’ll be fine.” Viktor grinned. “How about we continue our tour, huh? Or are you Californians so scared of the cold?”

Yuuri frowned. “I grew up in _Michigan_.”

-

When he got the invitation to Viktor’s birthday, he had expected it to be something along the lines of crazy expensive or extremely posh, like the kind of social events Yuuri felt like he wouldn’t fit into. Yet as he looked around the dinner table, surrounded only by no more than ten people, talking animatedly and catching up—it felt as if it was normal. It was the kind of family dinner Yuuri wanted to have when he was young, full of family who made up for the years of absence in a single night of gathering, and it began to somewhat tug at his chest in the most peculiar way.

Other than Yura and Chris, came Viktor’s mentors growing up (Yakov and Lilia), and two other distant relatives who were very close to him (Georgi and Mila). Yakov and Lilia were divorced, Viktor told him, but it didn’t seem that awkward at all. Georgi kept to himself, a little sullen, and spoke only when he needed to. Yuuri liked Mila the most, for she’s the one with enough fodder to embarrass Viktor in the middle of his own birthday dinner.

When Viktor asked that she stopped telling everyone, she leaned close to Yuuri and continued to whisper stories about him anyway, so Viktor had to continually police their conversations until everyone was done eating.

“He has control issues,” Mila said, jerking her chin towards Viktor. “I’d try to contain that early on if I were you.”

“I do _not_ have control issues,” Viktor hissed.

“Really? Is trying to listen in on our conversation not a way to stop me from telling him stories about you?”

“You are not telling stories, Mila. You’re embarrassing me.”

“As do all sisters when their brother brings home a boyfriend,” she grinned.

It was loud enough for everyone on the table to hear. There was a very clear pause, the attention suddenly zeroing on Yuuri, and the discomfort he felt from it was astounding.

Anna’s face lit up, as if she’d been waiting for it. “So, Viktor. When are you actually going to start formally introducing us to your boyfriend instead of avoiding the question?” she said; excited. “You have to forgive me for being so demanding, dear Yuuri. But like Mila said, my son has never brought _anyone_ home.”

Yuuri paled. Was he supposed to say something? Panicking, he turned to Viktor to ask for help.

Viktor wasn’t doing much better, as he turned crimson again, suddenly at loss for words. “Can you please stop?”

They didn’t stop.

-

“Yuuri, walk with me,” Viktor managed to intercept Yuuri on his way to his room. “Or did you want to sleep?”

If he was being honest, all the teasing and talking over dinner had exhausted him. Yuuri was never used to engaging with so many people and having to put himself out there (other than the usual events he went to as Crown Prince of Japan), and if he did, he’d be so drained afterwards. Although he did think about Viktor’s offer; and thought that it might be best if he could talk to him. Alone this time, where he was most comfortable.

“I want some ice cream,” Yuuri said.

“We could ask—”

“No, let’s go get them ourselves,” Yuuri said. “Is there somewhere we can get it?”

Viktor thought about it for a while, looking up and placing a finger on his lips, a habit he didn’t seem to notice he always did when thinking. “It’s about five streets away, but we can take my car,” he said. “Should we tell Kaizaki?”

Yuuri shook his head. “No.”

-

Since Yuuri’s been bitching about how cold Detroit could be, you’d expect him to turn into an icicle in the middle of Russia. He knew it’d be colder than Detroit, but he didn’t how _much colder_. It was all thanks to Viktor’s car heater that Yuuri didn’t freeze to death the moment he stepped out of the house. Viktor, who was definitely the one who thought about things before actually setting out to do them, brought gloves to protect himself from the biting chill.

“You’re not used to the cold yourself?” Yuuri asked, as they stepped out of the car and into the safety of a small, 24-hour convenience store.

“Nope,” Viktor said. “For a Russian, not much. But I can handle it.”

“Great.”

Viktor led them to one of the tables by the windows. It’s one of those one-stop-shop places that sold everything from stationery to microwaveable food. And now that Yuuri thought about it, he was starting to rethink the ice cream situation.

“Be right back,” Viktor said, asking Yuuri to sit and wait while he disappeared into the shelves. He returned soon after, not with ice cream, but two steaming paper cups and a bag of doughnuts. “I was thinking you didn’t want anything to do with the ice cream now that you’re shivering. Hot choco?”

“Thank you,” Yuuri smiled, taking the paper cup and used it to warm his hands. “That’s much better.”

“I should’ve brought extra gloves,” Viktor said, eyes on Yuuri’s hands.

“No, this is enough,” Yuuri went to touch Viktor’s hand, but it was gloved, so he instead brought his warm palm to Viktor’s cheek. He didn’t realise the sheer strangeness of it at first, until he saw Viktor swallow nervously, eyes wide and surprised. Yuuri pulled his hand back almost instantly.

They ate in silence for a while, settling down and warming up. Viktor got up minutes later, and came back with more chips.

Yuuri tried to read the label, but everything was in Cyrillic. “Potato chips?”

“My favourite potato chips,” Viktor said. “And you can only get them in Russia.”

“You have a favourite brand of potato chips?”

“There are some things you miss when you haven’t been home in so long,” Viktor said, then his laugh turned a little shy, as if he remembered something and it was bothering him yet again. He looked lovely, Yuuri thought, with the dim fluorescents accentuating his cheekbones, the lines of his face a little sharper, lips more prominent. “Listen, I’m sorry about my family teasing you over dinner. They’re a little...crazy.”

Yuuri sipped a little from his cup of hot chocolate, buying himself a little more time to think up a response. “I think it was you they were teasing, not me.”

“And they’re pressuring you to talk about something we never talked about, and I really don’t want to ask you to—”

“What if I do?” Yuuri asked, surprised at the sudden wave of courage inhibiting him. “What if I want you to ask me about it?”

Viktor looked rather nervous; uncharacteristically, because Viktor was never one to waver or fumble. To Yuuri and probably the rest of the world, he was perfect and gorgeous and could never be awkward. He was a prince through and through, and no one in the papers could prove otherwise.

Or he was always like that, and Yuuri was only seeing that side of him for the first time.

“Alright,” Viktor said, lips quivering a little. It was so obvious how his eyes went a little too wide and how his lips parted at their own volition, his face so caught off-guard that Yuuri himself was a little astonished to see. “Let me start, okay? How would say—do you think it’s time that we talked about it?”

“You and me?”

“Yes, you and me.”

He looked so hopeful, if not a little tense.

Viktor was never tense, not for as long Yuuri knew him, and all that new information was fuelling his courage to speak. “Listen, Viktor. About what we are—I’m a little...confused,” he said, exhaling, trying to gather his thoughts properly. “You flirt with me, you call me all the time, you ask to pay for dinner, but you never really told me what your intentions were. Am I misinterpreting something?”

Viktor looked confused himself. “No, you’re not,” he said. “Wasn’t I being clear?”

“No?” Yuuri replied, hesitantly.

“Do people take you out to dinner all the time?”

“No?”

“Do they fly all the way from Europe to see you?”

“No.”

“Do they inevitably find themselves leaning in to kiss you without thinking?”

This time, Yuuri stopped, then ducked his head to hide his face. He could feel blood rushing all the way to his ears, his heart pounding uncontrollably.

“No,” he said.

Viktor reached over the table to take Yuuri’s hands, wrapped them in his own, and blew warm breath into his palms. “Then, what does that tell you, Yuuri?”

“That you...” Yuuri began, his voice very small. He could feel Viktor’s hands tensing against his own, waiting, anticipating, expecting a reply. He formed the words in his mouth, his mind going haywire, heart going at full speed beneath his chest. “That you’re gay.”

And of course, Yuuri’s a moron, so there’s not really much to expect.

Viktor stared at him with wide eyes, confused, and then he laughed. He was laughing hard enough that tears were streaming out of his eyes. _Jesus Fucking Christ_ Yuuri needed the floor to eat him whole.

“Are you telling me,” Viktor huffed, still giggling. “That you never talked to me about this because you wondered if I was _straight_?”

“Why is that funny?” Yuuri asked, not at all relieved.

“Because that’s the strangest thing,” Viktor said. “Why would I be straight?”

He _honestly_ found that to be funny. Honest to god, funny. As if the idea of being straight was something so ridiculous it was hilarious.

“You know,” Viktor said. “I keep wondering when people are going to stop arguing over it. The fact seemed obvious, and it really doesn’t matter what they think.”

Yuuri was dumbfounded, silent, unable to find the right words that should be appropriate for this situation. Viktor just openly came out to him (not that he was hiding, anyway) and now Yuuri didn’t know what to do with that information.

“All that matters is what _you_ think of me, and whether _I’m_ the one who managed to misinterpret something,” Viktor said. “Did I misinterpret something?”

“No,” Yuuri said. “You haven’t misinterpreted a thing.”

* * *

_tumblr.com/viktuuri_

**WHAT DID I TELL YOU**

[photoset of paparazzi captures from Yuuri’s recent visit to Russia]

It’s a match made in heaven  
_#I am alive once more_ _#Viktuuri_ _#Crown Prince of Japan #Duke of Kent #Prince Yuuri #Prince Viktor #Theres no denying it anymore #Can we all celebrate for gods sake #everyones talking about my fave people omg_

> **daughteroflight** [reblogged] I wonder if ppl are gonna say something stupid like, “oh well, that’s how russians greet their friends”  
>  **Herstory** HISTORY MADE LADIES AND GENTS  
>  **bicmitchum** ew  
>  **newamericana** [reblogged]  
>  _k-pop people sitting close to each other_ : OMG MY FAvOURITE SHIP IS REeeeAL SOMEoNE SENd ME TO A HOSPITAL GAAAAHHHHHfddatawgr  
>  _Princes Viktuuri KISSING on Viktor’s Birtday in RUSSIA_ : Meh, they just close friends.  
>  **wellberoyals** [reblogged]*Plays Dean Fujioka’s History Maker*  
>  **gaydarstarr** [reblogged from _newamericana_ ] *slow clap*  
>  **cantwaittobeking** Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyy  
>  **royaltyisanillusion** [reblogged] *ignores haters* YAASSS KWEEEN

-

Google Search: Yuuri Katsuki | News

> _millenialteens.com_
> 
> **TWO NEW GAY ICONS ARE BORN: The Internet’s New Favourite Royal Couple  
>  ** By Lily Cage
> 
> A photo of two royals have been circulating allover tabloids and social media, but not for the reasons you’re thinking. Detroit’s own long-lost Prince Yuuri of Japan and Britain’s Prince Viktor of Kent have been photographed sharing a kiss on Christmas day in St. Petersburg, Russia. St. Petersburg happens to be where the Duke of Kent’s Russian family reside and Christmas day is his birthday, so we can only assume that the young Crown Prince of Japan has been invited to the celebrations.
> 
> The world has long been keeping watch of the two’s relationship since Prince Viktor was seen attending Prince Yuuri’s graduation, and suspicion of the real state of their relationship has been escalating since various photos of the said couple constantly walking the streets surfaced... _read more_.

 

> _royalwatchers.com_
> 
> **Prince Yuuri and Prince Viktor Confirmed!  
>  ** By Miranda Alberts
> 
> And internet firestorm has begun since photographs of two famous young royals, Prince Yuuri of Japan and Prince Viktor, Duke of Kent, surfaced in TMZ earlier today. We’ve all been waiting for a confirmation of the two’s relationship since the beginning, and now we finally have answers... _read more._

 

> _chrysanthemumfamilynews.si_
> 
> [Translated from Japanese]
> 
> **The Crown Prince of Japan’s Recent Frisk in Russia Has Consequences, Critics Say  
>  ** by Uetake Nori
> 
> Members of the Imperial House of Japan and it’s representatives have long stayed silent regarding the on-going issues of Yuuri, Crown Prince of Japan’s suspected relationship with Britain’s Duke of Kent. Although neither of the aforementioned royal members or their representatives have released statements, critics from allover the world have expressed their disapproval of the said actions of the Crown Prince... _read more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HMU [@anna-domini](https://anna-domini.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.
> 
> -  
> Well, I did tell you chapter numbers are subject to change. Also, comments help me improve. <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's things you just can't hide from your parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a rough week re:finals. Now that I'm done I can do whatever the fuck I want. ;)

_tumblr.com/Viktuuri_

[A photoset of Prince Viktor coming to various protests for gender rights]

Can we all just take a deep breath and think about the kind of change Viktor is trying to do here. Christ.  
_#Prince Viktor #Duke of Kent #he is leading us to the 21st century #one of the best monarchs of our time #can you feel the world changing_

> **gaydarstarr** [reblogged] That speech he did in 2011 was one of the most touching. Ever.  
>  r **oyaltyisanillusion** [reblogged from _gaydarstarr_ ] Nothing better than a man joining a women’s rights protest. Bless him.  
>  **Herstory** [reblogged from _gaydarstarr_ ] ally or sibling, his actions do affect the world to some degree. You know ya’ll love him for that.  
>  **cantwaittobeking** right. he’s probably there for the publicity like most celebrities.  
>  **lilialewis** [reblogged from _Herstory_ ] [A photoset of paparazzi photos showing PrinceYuuri working on protest placards] Just so you know, Prince Yuuri is also a gender activist and was seen working behind the scenes. Gotta love them both.  
>  **evangeliononcrack** [reblogged from _cantwaittobeking_ ] his conquests with the Crown Prince is possibly motivated by the same intent.  
>  **Herstory** [reblogged from _lilialewis_ ] can’t help but reblog this.

 

**An Open Letter to the Internet; Re: Viktuuri’s Relationship**

[A photo of Prince Viktor and Prince Yuuri in a small coffeeshop]

Before you even think about spamming me with the same hate comments you’ve been throwing at the Princes, let me just say one thing: I KNOW I’m not that important and I have no personal stakes whether or not said Princes get hate. I am not writing this simply because I am a crazy fangirl wanting to defend her favourite people, or to encourage other fangirls to fight the haters (It’s true that all the hate is irrational and needless, though. We’ll get to that in a second.).

I am here because I’m _pissed_ about how the world is reacting to their relationship in general. I have the compassion not only because it’s them and I love them both, but also because I wanted to defend what they represent.

These two people and their relationship is the definition of what is still good about the twenty-first century. They’re both members of a monarchy (both of which had long Feudal histories that denounced women and queer people for centuries), both very active in forwarding equal rights, and both down-to-earth people that appear relatable to everyone else (well, that’s more Yuuri than Viktor, but you know what I mean). They as individuals and as a pair show people that not only are gay relationships _normal_ , but also that it’s something that is not exclusive to the degenerates, the sinful, or the stupid.

Only fifty years ago people still thought that queers were uncivilised animals that know no culture and their very existence a sign of immorality. And sadly, though times have changed, there are still people who think that way and it’s frustrating. Viktor and Yuuri’s relationship defies all the misinformed notion of queer couples. Not only are the both of them highly intelligent and well-cultured, but they are also respected individuals in their own community—and they didn’t give a shit that people knew they were together. It’s the kind of disposition that inspires scared young boys to come out and be themselves, encourages discriminated individuals to believe that they are worth so much more than someone’s laughingstock, and gives power to a community that’s long been bullied into hiding.

Insisting and denying that this relationship is a sham or doesn’t exist is like denying that queer relationships are normal and acceptable. You trying to say that it’s nothing more than friendship when it clearly _isn’t_ is like saying that being queer is bad, so therefore it should either be ignored or covered up. Even the Princes are not covering it up, so what the _fuck_ are you haters even doing?

[source: Jazmindelaghetto]  
_#Viktuuri #Prince Viktor #Crown Prince Yuuri #Duke of Kent #Crown Prince of Japan #Im so sick of people being pieces of shite_

> **newamericana** [reblogged] I’ve never read anything more beautiful.  
>  **Herstory** [reblogged from _newamericana_ ] Ok but why am I crying though  
>  **wellberoyals** [reblogged from _newamericana_ ] I will defend my babies to my last breath  
>  **daughteroflight** Very well said, love. Very well said.  
>  **icantwaittobeking** It’s a matter of trying not to blow things out of proportion, not to discriminate. Jeez.  
>  **dukedomofkent** [reblogged] fortunately for the younger generation, they have wonderful people they could look up to. Here’s to less people in the closet and to a freer world. <3  
>  **dukedomofkent** @icantwaittobeking you know what’s blowing things out of proportion? Seeing someone briefly tap someone else’s shoulder then assume they’ve been dating for nine months. Viktuuri was literally seen smootching in mutherfukin RUSSIA on Viktor’s mutherfuking BIRTHDAY. Please go bother someone else with your emotional constipation, please.  
>  **colourmeinrainbow** [reblogged] Some of the people trying to deny or cover it up are actually dedicated fans of either Yuuri or Viktor (not the fans of both, obv) and it astounds me how much they argue how their role model ‘isn’t gay’ but just ‘really, really friendly’ and that Viktuuri’s just ‘really, really close friends’.
> 
> Trying to paint someone into something they aren’t isn’t love, you guys.  
>  **gaydarstarr** [reblogged from _colourmerainbow_ ] And if you don’t love people for _everything_ they are is not love. You’re just idealising them in your head to make them more desirable to you. But you probably won’t love them as much if you meet them in real life.  
>  **bicmitchum** No one said anything about hating gays. Calm down. It’s because people didn’t like it when you assume their relationship. You have no business in their personal affairs, so why are you investing so much of your time?  
>  **daughteroflight** @bicmitchum first of all, why is it that you’ve seen two people literally KISSING, visiting each other’s childhood home, and going on regular dates despite the LDR and go, “oh, I don’t want to assume their relationship coz its bad blah blah blah”? Second, if you think investing time about this issue is pathetic, then why are you here commenting and so clearly have read the contents of the blog post?  
>  **bicmitchum** @daughteroflight it’s clearly a comment to open up discussion. Don’t be so butthurt.  
>  **wellberoyals** @bicmitchum SERIOUSLY. FUCK. OFF.

* * *

  **Berkeley, 2015 – Junior Year, First Semester**

“So, I’m swamped with deadlines this month,” Phichit said as they were eating dinner, seemingly almost out of nowhere.

“I knew that,” Yuuri said, munching at a bowl of popcorn he just heated over the stove.

He had about 6,000 calories and 280 mg of caffeine in him, spent hours jumping between Youtube and doing actual school-related work. The caffeine gave him far too much energy; which he needed, of course, but that only meant he was far too energetic to actually maintain focus. For tunnel vision purposes, Adderall would have been the best option, but _god_ Yuuri wasn’t going to go there. He hadn’t been that desperate.

 _Yet_.

They were at the verge of exams week and there’s going to be more than just exams Yuuri was going to have to worry about (i.e. Papers, groups projects, and non-written graded presentations). He wasn’t too good with people and didn’t know how to ask his professors for advice; so that made him a man for himself and himself alone. He remembered that one time in sophomore year where nobody told him that they changed classrooms, and Yuuri had to stalk his teacher for two weeks before discovering where to go. Phichit often told him to speak up more.

“So if you want to have your boyfriend over, tell me as soon as possible,” Phichit said. “I think I can sleepover at Shelly’s again.”

Yuuri glared at him. “Even if he was coming over, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Yeah, like hormones can wait as soon as it hits you,” Phichit said. “I know we haven’t discussed this before, but if he’s here, I’ll be home til’ dinner. After that, I’m out. If you even want me to join you for dinner, that is.”

One of the advantages of telling Phichit about his and Viktor’s recent change of relationship was that he finally got it off his chest and told someone. He knew that the new relationship should be kept under the wraps for the mean time, but to hide anything as major as that would cause him more stress than peace. Hiding from the press and his family, that was easy; hiding from someone who lived with him, though, was going to be impossible.

The one disadvantage was that Phichit acted like Yuuri was in a long-term, serious relationship. Not that Yuuri wasn’t taking it seriously, of course; but it was new and overwhelming, and frankly, anything could happen. If Viktor regretted his decision and took it all back, at least there’s not much they could lose; not time nor effort nor tears.

“He’s coming over soon, isn’t he?”

“In about two weeks,” Yuuri said, zoning out and managing most of his focus into the paper he was writing. His fingers were shaking, his heart rate was shooting up, and he really didn’t want to think about the state of his liver. “Popcorn?”

-

It’s the first time since they saw each other in _months_ and Yuuri’s already turned into a disappointing boyfriend. It was bound to happen—considering all that Yuuri was—but had hoped for it to happen _later_ rather than _sooner_.

“You want me to help you with that?” Viktor asked, peering over Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri immediately covered the screen of his laptop with his hands, embarrassed. “Don’t read it!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a bad paper. Bad writing. I shouldn’t have waited ‘til the last minute to finish it,” Yuuri sighed. If he were being honest, the only reason he forgot about the paper at all was that he was spending _way_ too much time on Skype; but he wasn’t going to say that. “It’s my fault, don’t worry about it.”

They were seated on the couch and Yuuri was hunched over the low coffee table; it’s probably the most uncomfortable way to write a paper, but it made it for a brilliant excuse to sit close together. Viktor leaned closer, setting his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder. “Which elective?”

“Uh—” Yuuri had to try to contain himself, but still managed to shudder at the contact.

Everything was still new; the touches, the conversations, and just about anything they did together. Since that early morning conversation in Russia, Yuuri had felt something shift. It wasn’t a visible change, nothing of that sorts, but it was more like a change in the overall mood when he and Viktor were together—their once restrained flirtation was now more open, their touches less hesitant, their conversations sometimes dropping into the more risqué of topics. They haven’t gone as far as any serious relationship might go, but it was a start, and it’s always been the part that Yuuri found most exciting.

“History of England,” Yuuri said, biting his lip. He could feel the soft, warm skin of Viktor’s cheek, and it took everything in him not to turn and plant a kiss on Viktor’s temple. Maybe that alone was making it the worst way to write an important term paper, but yet again, Yuuri will endure. Besides, it made him want to finish it much faster than he intended to.

“And it’s a paper on?”

“Poverty in the Victorian Era.”

Viktor hummed, taking Yuuri’s hand away from the screen. Yuuri let him, because what was the use of even trying to hide his ineptitude? For a few minutes, Viktor lightly scrolled through the work Yuuri’s been doing for _days—_ It didn’t take him that long because he was putting all his effort into it, but rather due to the many distractions he’d find most interesting at the most inappropriate time.

“Your contextualisation is fantastic, but you can’t just dwell on people’s everyday routines,” Viktor said, humming. “London poverty was defined by odd jobs and lack of appropriate housing. Numbers aren’t going to make it more credible. History books love to narrate and describe, so I suggest you do that instead.”

Right. He couldn’t help but feel a bit stupid. “I think I borrowed the wrong books.”

“I know a few academic journals you can use for that.”

The next thing Yuuri knew, Viktor was already taking over his laptop, typing in searches for a few online journals, even used his accounts to allow Yuuri access to the more exclusive functions of the sites. In the end, it was Viktor who found a few that seemed great, skimmed them over, and offered Yuuri advice on how to write a proper outline. Apparently, things would have been so much easier for him if he’d mapped it out before taking over the keyboard.

Viktor was obviously so much better at it than Yuuri that it was almost understandable to ask, “What did you major in?”

“Double major,” Viktor grinned. “Sociology and History.”

Yuuri swore to god he suddenly had a thing for smart people.

-

“Viktor.”

Viktor looked up, hand ready to undo his seatbelt.

They were in front of a small, dessert shop Yuuri discovered with Phichit a few weeks back. He rather liked the place, mostly for the fact that it was secluded and people didn’t pay much attention to it. At the moment, however, it was swarmed with photographers _supposedly_ trying to act cool and pretend they weren’t going to do what they’re about to do.

He’s encountered paparazzi standing by and taking pictures of him before—too many times for his taste—but they usually didn’t get in his way. Yuuri’s been exposed to them long enough that he knew it wasn’t the kind of day he’d be left alone.

“Oh, them?” Viktor looked over to the cluster of people waiting, with some already clicking away with their cameras. “Did you want to go somewhere else instead?”

Yuuri could hear the change in Viktor’s voice, very likely of disappointment, and it was beginning to show on his face as well. They were having a great time that day and all the fun was bound to expire by the end of it; Yuuri had only managed to finish his work and was off to exams after that, so they really didn’t have time together except for that one afternoon.

He began to reach for Viktor’s hand, but drew back almost instantly.

Dammit.

It was difficult whenever he needed to watch what he did, even more so when Yuuri’s grown so comfortable with Viktor through the months they’ve been together. It wasn’t like the relationship itself hadn’t _technically_ been confirmed already (as most tabloids and social media sites supported), but a lot of people were still dismissing the idea of it and were saying there wasn’t much ‘proof’ of their relationship to even come to that crazy conclusion. Instead of actually deterring people from talking about it, skeptics managed to send even more attention their way, peaking people’s curiosity regardless of what their actual intentions were.

He simply could not spoil it; shouldn’t let _other people_ spoil it.

Deciding on what to do, Yuuri placed a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “Hey,” he said, softly. “I know another place.”

“They’ll just follow suit, I think,” Viktor frowned.

“I also happen to know that if I drive fast enough, we’ll lose them,” Yuuri said, offering Viktor a smile.

-

A small, out-of-the-way diner wasn’t the most romantic of places, but it was known to serve hungover university students and overworked young adults, and basically meant that it was almost always deserted before one in the morning. It didn’t hurt that the waitress didn’t seem to have access to the internet or didn’t bother with the newspaper that she didn’t give two shits that Viktor and Yuuri were there.

“I didn’t know you could drive so fast,” Viktor said, sipping at his tall glass of milkshake. “Oh my god, this is _so_ good. Why didn’t you tell me about this place?”

“I was trying to impress you, okay?” From where he sat, he could see the corner where lots of bad graffiti were scribbled, the skewed picture frames, and tables with slight cracks on them. He could also imagine that one memorable night he and Phichit were there, sitting on their tired asses as they watched a group of teenagers puking allover the floor. “With the places you were bringing me to, I was thinking you’d run the opposite direction if I brought you here.”

“And now you just gave up on impressing me?”

Yuuri snorted. “Technically, yes.”

“ _Wow_ ,” Viktor said. “And here I thought you brought me here because it had some kind of sentimental stuff going on.”

That said memorable night of drunk puking flashed before his eyes again, and he decided, “Nope. Just about the only place where people can’t get to us.”

Viktor stared at him for long time, clearly vying to attention. For the faint of heart, it would have been impossible to ignore those long lashes batting at him from across the table, but Yuuri’s grown stronger.

When he only stared back and didn’t give Viktor the assurance he was asking for, Viktor sighed dramatically. “At least the milkshake’s good.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon in that dingy diner, mostly because they were unable to think of other places to go. Yuuri never did once complain, though. Viktor managed to adjust quickly, and though some people asked if they could take pictures with them, the exchanges have so far been nice and respectful. Yuuri actually met a few wonderful fans that he wouldn’t have come across in fancier places, and for that, he was thankful.

Later that day, Yuuri brought up the unspoken concern that needed to be addressed. All the stress he went through, all the effort he did to stay out of the paparazzi’s way was all for that one moment that they needed to talk about it. Alone, and with no one trying to take videos to be sent off to people who knew how to lip read.

They weren’t talking about it, nor were they talking about anything that was particularly close to it that it almost came out of nowhere.

“I don’t want you to think that I am ashamed of you.”

Because of course, Viktor wasn’t the one who asked to keep a low profile. He didn’t seem like the type to hide his exploits no matter how strange or scandalous. Even if he weren’t taking it so seriously, he still would’ve paraded the thing to the media, which had been cause for Yuuri’s concern.

“I didn’t think that,” Viktor said, blinking at Yuuri from behind a cone of ice cream, looking like there was something he didn’t understand. “Where is this coming from?”

“Nothing,” Yuuri shrugged. “I just thought we needed to talk about it and it was never brought up, so...”

“And one of us had to say something, and I didn’t,” Viktor said. “You’re much better at this than I am.”

“Not true.”

Viktor snorted. “Yes, it is. You’re much better at addressing things that I am.”

It was almost hilarious they were talking about it in the middle of a parking lot, eating ice cream of all things. It was probably ill-timed and a sign of Yuuri’s scatter-brained tendencies when he felt insecure, but it had to be done. “I just thought that we didn’t need to confirm anything to anyone because they really don’t...matter?” Yuuri said, hesitant. “The tabloids, I mean. I don’t think any of us owe them any explanation, so I thought we shouldn’t encourage them to pry.”

That had sounded way too overly-anxious of him. It didn’t sound like that when he thought about it a hundred times.

“Oh, _Zolotse_.” It was moments later that Yuuri felt Viktor’s hand on his knee, squeezing, a familiar sign of assurance rather than flirtation. “I told you, we can go at our own pace,” he said, smiling. “We’ll go there when we want to and tell them when we want to.”

Yuuri could feel that familiar shift again, that unseen force that washed over him at the slightest touch of Viktor’s hand. It wasn’t apparent, not yet, but Yuuri could tell that things were about to change. The good kind of change.

He smiled up at his _boyfriend_ , because no matter what anyone thought, they were who they were to each other.

* * *

 _archiveofourown.com/_ _tags/British%20Royalty%20RPF/works_

 

> Shibari by PrinceVitya  
>  British Royalty RPF, Real Person RPF
> 
> **Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings** , Prince Yuuri/Prince Viktor | Duke of Kent, Prince Yuuri of Japan, Prince Viktor | Duke of Kent, smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot _,_ Anal Fingering, Intercrural Sex, Blow Jobs, Shibari/Kinbaku, Bondage, BDSM, Dom/sub, Dom!Viktor, Sub!Yuuri, god save the duke of kent, god save my soul, british and japanese empire please don’t come for me
> 
> “ _I think you’d look gorgeous in red rope_.”
> 
> Language: English Words: 12,928 Chapters: 2/3 Comments: 891 Kudos: 11,908 Bookmarks: 8,912 Hits: 32,453

  

> Livin’ On The Edge by Clarinda0110, D_Toska  
>  British Royalty RPF, Real Person RPF
> 
> **No** **Archive Warnings** **Apply** , Prince Yuuri/Prince Viktor | Duke of Kent, Prince Yuuri of Japan, Prince Viktor | Duke of Kent, Yuri Plisetsky, Phichit Chulanont, Christophe Giacometti, Katsuki Mari, Okukawa Minako, Jean-Jacques Leroy, Georgi Popovich, Anya, Vicchan (Prince Yuuri’s Royal Dog), Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Songfic, Mild Language, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Tags Are Hard, Mild Sexual Content, Heavy Petting, Boys Kissing, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Referenced Death/Car Accident, Fist Fights, Panic Attacks
> 
> Yuuri Katsuki is an unassumingly handsome young man who works a day job in a steel mill and dances in a bar at night. When Yuuri discovers that his handsome boss, Viktor Nikiforov, is both interested in him and supportive of his performing career, he renews his efforts to get accepted into a prestigious dance conservatory. Although Yuuri is frightened of failure, he is cheered on by Viktor, as well as by his mentor, former ballet performer/teacher Minako Okukawa.
> 
> Language: English Words: 54,778 Chapters: 11/11 Comments: 47 Kudos: 114 Bookmarks: 24 Hits: 2,771

 

> When The Cherry-blossoms Bloom by YulianaKatsuki  
>  British Royalty RPF, Real Person RPF
> 
> **Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings** , Prince Yuuri/Prince Viktor | Duke of Kent, Prince Yuuri of Japan, Prince Viktor | Duke of Kent, Depression, Fluff, Comfort, Vitya is not the best person to go to for advice, Healing
> 
> Yuuri fails to realize he’s good enough.
> 
> Viktor seeks happiness in a life of royalty.
> 
> They meet each other at the middle.
> 
> –
> 
> or: Yuuri struggles at the loss of his old life, where everything was normal and free, and he mourns even more for the reputation he once held dear. Viktor, clueless as ever, comes in like a whirlwind; and doesn’t realize how much of Yuuri’s life he was beginning to change.
> 
> Language: English Words: 21,612 Chapters: 3/7 Comments: 378 Kudos: 1,921 Bookmarks: 892 Hits: 2,341

 

> Lightning in a Bottle by Memoryboard  
>  British Royalty RPF, Real Person RPF, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
> 
> **Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings** , Prince Yuuri/Prince Viktor | Duke of Kent, Prince Yuuri of Japan, Prince Viktor | Duke of Kent, Phichit Chulanont, Yuri Plisetsky, Christophe Giacometti, Michele Crispino, Mila Babicheva, Celestino Cialdini, Yakov Feltsman, Crossover, Role Reversal, Age Swap, this AU is a bit of a mess but youll get it, hopefully, Smoking, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, First Kiss, Getting to Know Each Other, Love at First Sight, i think, Eventual Smut, Mild Language, swears everywhere, Fluff
> 
> “What,” Viktor blinked. Was he still drunk? “Did—did you just fly all the way to Russia to make a bet?”
> 
> “Is that bad?”
> 
> “Yes. Because who _does_ that?”
> 
> Who does that? Yuuri freaking Katsuki, of course.
> 
>  
> 
> (or: Role Reversal/Age Swap Crossover AU where Yuuri's a living legend of the Figure Skating World and bored out of his mind. AU mechanics a bit of a mess unless you read it, but you don’t have to have seen the anime since everything is basically nuanced. Forgive me.)
> 
> Language: English Words: 71,426 Chapters: 16/16 Comments: 215 Kudos: 824 Bookmarks: 210 Hits: 12,886

  

> Blistering Heat by MariusPontmercy  
>  British Royalty RPF, Real Person RPF
> 
> **Underage** , Prince Yuuri/Prince Viktor | Duke of Kent, Prince Yuuri of Japan, Prince Viktor | Duke of Kent, A/B/O Dynamics _,_ First Love, First Kiss, First Time, Heat Cycles, First Heat
> 
> They meet at the Summer of 2002.
> 
> [alternatively, an AU where the boys are childhood friends.]
> 
> Language: English Words: 21,612 Chapters: 11/12 Comments: 239 Kudos: 722 Bookmarks: 401 Hits: 1,326

-

There were certain patterns his roommate fell into whenever it was nearing exam week.

A sign of Phichit’s end-of-semester breakdown was that he would come into Yuuri’s room for no reason at all and stay there without doing anything. He wouldn’t say a word, just come in and crash on Yuuri’s bed, and then contemplate his life choices. That pattern got broken somehow, all thanks to a recent influx of internet-related literature.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but I figured you should know,” Phichit said, lazily scrolling through his phone; a true testament that he was dead on the inside. “These fanworks about you and your boyfriend are getting intense. _Really_ intense. Wonderful, but intense.”

“Shouldn’t you be studying or something?” Yuuri said, uncapping his yellow highlighter and scribbled away.

Phichit showed him anything and everything he found hilarious; at that point, Yuuri’s far too de-synthesised to even be surprised. He’s seen everything from the overly-dramatic, the extremely inappropriate, and the disgustingly cliché. What’s most interesting was how the internet seemed to think his sex life was raunchier than what it actually was.

And of course, because Phichit wasn’t one to take a hint, so he continued droning on. “You’ve got to get some of these people published. Some of the stuff I’ve read are actually well-written.” He put his thumb and index finger together, then brought it to his lips in the most dramatic fashion. “Poignant.”

“You actually read them?”

“On my spare time, yes.”

Yuuri particularly did _not_ want to ask whether Phichit’s reading list included the more explicit ones. “I know what you’re doing. I am not helping you with that paper. It’s your fault you’re getting behind schedule and you should learn how to handle the consequences.”

“Don’t need help, thank you,” Phichit said, rolling around Yuuri’s freshly-made bed, ruining it. His hair stuck in every direction, the bags under his eyes were dark and almost painful to look at, and his knuckles were covered in blue ink. Yuuri could see that he was a mess, but that was all thanks to his procrastination and whatever else he did that kept him up until the early hours of morning.

“Phichit—”

“Great sex advice, though,” Phichit said, cutting him off effectively. “Also, did you know that most people think you’re a dom? How does that make you feel?”

Yuuri gagged. “Even TMZ never asked me that question. Shut up.”

“I wonder what Viktor’s going to say if I showed him some of—”

“ _Okay_ ,” Yuuri set his highlighter down. Not that he was doing much studying, of course; Phichit’s constant barrage has made it almost impossible to maintain concentration. “I’m helping you with homework. Now, would you please stop and give it here.”

-

Several things kept Yuuri up at night, and that wasn’t just his boyfriend. He just chose to spend most of it with Viktor, of course, since he was a far better distraction than having to think about the things that worried him.

“You look tired,” Viktor said, licking the chocolate off of his fingers. “Is there any way I could help?”

There might not be a way for Viktor to help him, Yuuri thought, as it was more of a personal turmoil he was going through. Minako had avoided the topic of Yuuri’s coming to Russia—and so did his dad, Kaizaki, and the rest of the people working for his father. It wasn’t so much that anyone had opinions on it or anything, but rather that Yuuri _didn’t_ know what those opinions were. It was either a.) they’ve never come across the tabloid articles online, or b.) they did, but they weren’t saying anything. Yuuri didn’t know which was worse; that he had to be the one to tell them about it or that everyone’s heard and elected to ignore it.

“Yuuri.” From across the table and on the screen of his laptop, Yuuri could see the frown forming on Viktor’s face. “You’ve been working on that for three hours straight. You can take a break if you want to.”

Snapping out of his reverie, Yuuri blinked hard and looked down at the work he was doing. It was an analysis paper, _handwritten_ , and he was about seven pages in. That was stressful, sure, and probably the reason why he had reverted to thinking about things he really didn’t want to.

“Sorry,” he said. “I zoned out a bit, I think.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri swallowed. “I just—well, it’s handwritten, you know?”

Viktor shrugged. “It’s meant to control plagiarism. It’s kind of effective if you ask me.”

Yuuri groaned.

It was true though. Somehow you forget how to cite something properly and then a bad case plagiarism happens. Ever since they’ve been warned about it, Yuuri’s been very careful about crediting work to the right authors, otherwise he’d get himself into trouble he didn’t mean to be in.

“Hang in there,” Viktor grinned.

Yuuri could recognise the very slight hesitance in the way that he smiled. They haven’t known each other for as long as Yuuri knew Phichit, but in their closeness, Yuuri could already tell what Viktor thought; most of the time, any way. He still had so much to learn.

“You don’t think I’m telling you how it is.”

“No.”

He so obviously deflated before admitting to it that it made Yuuri wonder what worried him so much.

“Hey,” Yuuri said, peering at Viktor through the screen. It wasn’t the same as it was seeing him in person, but it was one of those things Yuuri was willing to endure. “Did anyone from the Palace ever asked about...Russia?”

Yuuri was just about to use the word ‘us’ instead of ‘Russia’, but he was never one to face his problems head-on. Viktor, who was clearly the opposite of that, sensed the meaning behind it and immediately replied with, “No. Has anyone told you off? Is that why you’re distracted?”

“No one has,” Yuuri said, finally admitting to the sheer stupidity of his own anxiety. “But that’s the thing, they’ve never told me anything. Not even dad.”

Viktor frowned. “Yuuri, I’m so sorry—”

“I wanted it, so don’t apologise,” Yuuri cut him off, mad that Viktor ever thought about being at fault. They didn’t even know if it was a screw-up or not, or if people simply just didn’t care, but it’s been bothering him for such a long time. “I’m just a bit nervous, I guess.”

“Are you sure they didn’t tell you anything?”

“I’m sure,” Yuuri said. “And I’m sure they’ll say something if they don’t like it. So let’s not think about that.”

Viktor probably sensed that Yuuri was becoming uncomfortable; and as far as their relationship went, Viktor was the type to immediately stop whenever Yuuri felt even the slightest of tense situations. “Alright,” he said. “Do you need help with that, then? Do you want me to help you look for more citations?”

* * *

> _youngadultsforsogie.org_
> 
> **Is the Japan Ready for a Queer Emperor?  
>  ** By Wilma Larucci
> 
> Only in the last decade, the world has evolved to become a more tolerant society that welcomed diversity in all forms. This is exemplified by the recent legalisation of gay marriage in various countries, increased activism for gender rights, and wide-spread information dissemination on gender and sexual identities. However, there are still remnants of old traditions that maintain their presence in the midst of these changes—such as unfair wage differences, lack of maternal healthcare, and the ambiguous rules on whether modern-day monarchs can be in gay relationships.
> 
> While gay men in the Medieval United Kingdom are popularly depicted to have had favourites, their relationships with their rumoured lovers were never officially announced or written in history books, and most historians who have ever wrote about them simply insinuate rather than explicitly identify. In the present times, the UK has made civil partnerships of the same sex become legal amongst the House of Lords. Though that might sound good, the spouses are not actually allowed to be given the extension of proper titles and benefits of their partner’s ennoblement status. It is not certain if this will be changing any time soon, though the first step to true equality has been made through the Equality Bill introduced by Lord Lucas in 2013. However, there still hasn’t been any discussion whether the Duke of Kent’s relationship with the Crown Prince of Japan is an allowable case.
> 
> Japan, being the oldest hereditary monarchy in the world, is a much more complicated case. Their rules for succession does not allow females to inherit the Imperial Throne, regardless if there are no other males in the succession line. This has become an issue of concern for some of the current Crown Prince’s supporters, as it is an issue that the both the public and the Imperial Family has elected to ignore, despite the apparent confirmation since Prince Yuuri’s visit to Russia... _read more._

* * *

**Detroit, 2016 – Summer Internship**

Yuuri spent the most of his summer in a publishing house two streets away from home. It wasn’t the most attractive internship experience to put on his resume, but it was the only place where the boss didn’t know who he was (initially, anyway) and the rest of the offers he had basically looked like his college acceptance letters (flowery, fake, and with a promise of special treatment). Said boss wasn’t the nicest, but at least he didn’t give a damn about Yuuri being the son of an Emperor or some shit and still gave him odd jobs like photocopying 250 pages of a very long contract.

“So, how did you end up here...um—”

“Yuuri,” he smiled, loading the photocopier with more paper.

“So, is that like, Prince Yuuri or something?”

“No, just Yuuri.”

Mary was an editor in her forties, always clad in pink sweaters, and needed a new pair of glasses. Yuuri hadn’t been talking to her as much as he should, but that was mostly because she didn’t seem to know how to act around him. It was weird, sure, but at least Yuuri didn’t have to constantly think about what he was going to say to her. He wasn’t the best at small talk, you see.

“So, Yuuri...how’d you end up in a publishing company? You major in Asian Studies, right?”

“I actually like to write papers and stuff,” he said, pressing buttons to start up the machine again. “I was thinking I can learn about how to become a proper editor.”

Mary shrugged. “But that wouldn’t be your actual job in the near future, won’t it?”

Well, wasn’t that a nice reminder.

“If the editor thing doesn’t work out, maybe I’ll pick up a few things on the process of publishing books,” he said. “I can still do a few researches even if I’m...well, you know...”

“Even when you’re Emperor?”

Yuuri cringed. “Something like that.”

-

Viktor came to visit a month into summer vacation, and oh did he look _wonderful_ in summer clothes. Not that he’s suddenly wearing tank tops or anything (which he should, since he had nice arms), but he looked a tad more laid back than he did wearing his usually dark winter clothes. His shirts were more colourful, he looked fabulous in sunglasses, and less intimidating in purple jeans. Viktor could easily be mistaken for a young college student coming home for the summer, and Yuuri liked it.

“Is it possible for you to look not so nice when we’re out together?” Yuuri complained one afternoon, as he came to pick up Viktor after he left the office. “I look like your PA.”

“You sound like me when I’m out with Christophe,” Viktor said. “And it’s not my fault you don’t like dressing up.”

“I’m sorry I don’t spend two hours to get ready.”

Viktor gasped, offended. “Excuse me, I dress up to impress _you_.”

He didn’t have to, honestly.

There was something about spending his time with Viktor that redirected Yuuri’s attention. It was to him and only him, and no other problem or worry could take that away. He’d still yet to broach the topic to Minako, or maybe Kaizaki, but definitely not his dad. There was no scenario where Yuuri could imagine things to go down as smoothly as he wanted to, and he figured that if he left it alone, people were just going to have to learn how to live with it.

And he would be thankful for that distraction; because more than anything, he enjoyed getting distracted by it. He would be reminded not to worry in each time that Viktor left him messages, in times when Viktor tells him they’d see each other again soon, in each unprompted moment that they alone share.

“You have a problem,” Yuuri said.

“What’s that?” Viktor opened an eye, still slightly out of breath, his arm wrapped loosely around Yuuri as they laid together in the most luxurious of beds.

“You have like, condoms scattered all over the suite,” Yuuri snorted. “The kitchen cabinets? Really?”

Viktor groaned, shifting closer. It was extremely warm that way; not the good kind of warm, the overly-heated and sweaty kind, but it was adorable and Yuuri didn’t want to interrupt the moment. “I just want to be prepared whenever it happened, okay? Wherever it happened.”

“And you’ve elected to scatter them all over the place.”

“It’s _practical_.”

Yuuri poked his nose, still laughing. “If you say so.”

-

“Has Viktor left already?”

Yuuri found his mother in the kitchen, still covered in flour amongst other things, and was in the middle of making Yuuri his favourite dish. With each day, she’s been outdoing herself on the kind of dinner she served, thanks to the fact that Yuuri hadn’t been coming home as often as he promised.

He still felt bad about that. Back in high school, Yuuri was doing small jobs on the side to help with the bills; and if Hiroko hadn’t believed that working for himself was a way to build responsibility, she wouldn’t have let him. The money Yuuri earned was a small fraction of the money they needed to maintain the house, but at least he made up for the electricity he consumed using his laptop all day. Though Toshiya splurged on Yuuri’s education, he didn’t offer much for anything else. His mother paid half of the cost to buy his Mustang—and his laptop, his phone, his clothes, and just about anything might they be essential or not.

Despite knowing that her son was a Crown Prince with a fair amount of inheritance, Hiroko never did cut corners.

“A few minutes ago, yeah,” Yuuri said. He sat on the bar stool by the kitchen counter, and went to look for something he could do to help. Vicchan followed him around, clingier than usual, and was pleading for treats. Yuuri did not have the heart to ignore him. “Did you see the cake he brought you?”

“Yes, I did,” she grinned. “I always did like him.”

Yuuri went to help open the bag of bread crumbs, after which he went to the refrigerator to get some eggs.

“So, when are you going to tell your mother you have a boyfriend?”

He almost dropped the eggs. “W-what?!”

Hiroko gave him a look that almost said, “ _Are you fucking kidding me_?” (His mother wouldn’t say those exact words, of course, but meme culture does things to even the most intellectual minds.) “I would understand if he only called you twice a month, but on top of calling you everyday, he comes over from across the ocean to see you. Every two months,” she said, mixing away with her spatula. “It would be nice to tell your mother a thing or two, yes? I think I deserve some of that.”

“Are you—” Yuuri swallowed. “Are you mad?”

“For not being told about the most important things in your life? A little.”

“No. No, no, no—aren’t you mad that—” He tried to recollect himself, afraid that he might end up vomiting on the kitchen counter. “Mom, that’s not it.”

“Then what do you think I’m mad about?”

Yuuri took a deep breath, lowered himself on the barstool in front of her, and clasped his hands tight. “That I...that I like boys.”

He found himself at the other end of that _look_ again, and Yuuri could only shrink back. Though a few moments later, the expression on his mother’s face softened; very akin to compassion, a little sad. “Whatever gave you the idea that what you irrevocably are is going to make me very angry, then that’s my fault,” she said, putting the cutlery down. “But you shouldn’t think that. I raised you and I know you well. Did I ever tell you that it was bad to like other boys?”

“Never.”

“Then there’s your answer,” she said, smiling again. “Though it would be nice if you invited him to dinner though. I feel a little cross about you having to sneak out and go on dates while your mother doesn’t have a clue what you’re doing. Bring him here and introduce him properly.”

Yuuri nodded furiously.

“And if you’re worried about your father, tell him he has to answer to me.”

Only Hiroko would say that about an _Emperor_ , and Yuuri loved her for it.

“You didn’t have sex ed in your high school, did you?

 _Oh boy_. He was not about to get ‘the talk’ at age twenty-one. “No. I don’t need it.”

He specifically didn’t ask ‘why?’ because he already knew where the conversation was bound to go, but his mother wasn’t one to stop whenever she felt like she needed to trudge on. “I don’t know what to teach you, but I’m sure there’s a lot of videos on the internet—”

“Mom.”

“And just because you’re both boys and no one’s going to get accidentally pregnant, doesn’t mean that you’re safe from stress or—”

“You’re literally worse than Phichit.”

Hiroko made a face. “Am I now? Is he your mother?”

“No, but—”

“There you go. I know kids these days simply want to be alone, but I care about you and it’s my job to make sure you don’t get hurt,” she said, looking strangely calm despite the things they were talking about. “If you feel like there’s something he’s doing wrong, then know that you can always refuse. The both of you must know what consent means, make a strict habit of it, and make sure no one’s pressuring anyone to do anything they’re not ready for. Did I make myself clear, Yuuri?”

* * *

 

> _spilledtea.com_
> 
> **How Serious Is Viktuuri’s Relationship?**  
>  By Sabina Adams
> 
> High-profile royal couple Prince Viktor and Crown Prince Yuuri have started a media firestorm in 2014, and public interest hasn’t gone down since. Most of the intrigue is coming from the lack of confirmation from either party alongside the pair’s very obvious public displays. For several years, the Duke of Kent has been spotted in America, dining or visit various places with his rumoured beau. Many are still skeptical in regards to their real relationship, but the constancy of their meetings outside of formal events have... _read more_.

 

> _justjared.com_
> 
> **Crown Prince of Japan and Duke of Kent Enjoy Time Together in a 5-Star Hotel**
> 
> Recent photos of the internet’s favourite royal couple have implied that their relationship has progressed into a more serious one, with photographers spotting them in expensive restaurants and walking into the Duke of Kent’s posh hotel. (Photo slideshow below)

* * *

**Los Angeles, 2016 – Consulate General of Japan, Los Angeles**

It was the first time in years since the Emperor of Japan paid visit to America, and months seen Yuuri’s seen his dad. He still found it difficult to separate the two, but at the moment, Toshiya was Emperor and Yuuri was going to have to w ait until dinner to talk to his dad again.

“Do you have your cheat cards?” Minako leaned forward to whisper, looking more nervous for him than Yuuri was for himself. “If you get lost or forget what to say, don’t be afraid to peak at them, okay?”

Yuuri nodded silently.

It was probably a no-no for a supposedly charismatic figure (as what Japan depicted him to be) to look down on a cheat sheet mid-speech. Minako long understood that public speaking was never his strongest quality, so she figured he needed all the help he could get. Not that he complained or felt sorry about himself for that though, it would have been much worse if he was left alone to do public stunts without so much as a back-up plan.

“And stop thinking about it,” Minako scolded. “You’ll do fine.”

He wasn’t too sure about that. There were about a hundred people in the audience, all Japanese dual-citizens working in America, and were so much better than him in the Japanese language. For sentimentality’s sake, Minako and the rest of the people working for his father insisted he addressed the audience in _Nihonggo_. His mastery of the language wasn’t _too_ bad, but wasn’t good enough for casual communication either. What if someone went to him and asked incriminating questions that he’ll accidentally give the wrong answers to? Would it be alright for him to ask people to talk to him slowly? Would it cause bad rep for him to ask them to translate words he didn’t understand? Was he about to self-destruct?

“You’re shaking, Your Highness,” Kaizaki approached him, a glass of water in his hand. “Do you need anything?”

In the end, Yuuri did fine. Not in an ‘adequate’ sort of way, but more like ‘he didn’t throw up in front of people’ way. It might sound grim to some, but Yuuri’s been avoiding the public speaking thing since the beginning of time. He’s been doing _fine_ , though; so far, at least.

Not having to spill his guts in front of a hundred people was achievement enough.

And for a job well done, his father brought him to a nice restaurant (which name he couldn’t pronounce). The Emperor wasn’t there anymore, replaced by his more down-to-earth father who sometimes cracked jokes that drained the soul. But maybe he _was_ funny, and Yuuri just didn’t have enough history with him to recognise the context—typical sad story of absentee fathers, truly.

They talked about anything they could, in anyway they could, until they’ve exhausted the topic and someone had to choose another one to avoid awkward silences. Toshiya did most of that by the way, so at least he was trying. He was asked about school, mostly—of which Yuuri occasionally embellished. If the person who paid for his education was going to know what he’s doing, he might as well hear something nice and exciting.

“And you still skate?” his father asked.

“Yeah. Yes,” Yuuri replied, picking at a truffle covered dish. He never did like truffles. “I’ve been coming in regularly.”

“Did you ever got chosen to compete?”

“My coach asked me to? But I was swamped with work and needed to apply for a double major, so...”

“Oh, your double major,” Toshiya said, thanking the waiter for what seemed to be his sixth glass of wine. “Tell me about it.”

And then it went on.

Wow. It was becoming so awkward he needed to think of a way to make it interesting fast. “Um, they told me it was better to find a double major that’s similar to my current degree?” he said, not at all confident or comfortable. “So, Anthropology.”

Toshiya nodded, chewing away. “Your uncle graduated with a degree in Anthropology.”

Yuuri droned on to keep the conversation going. He never did mention how he didn’t know the said uncle, but Toshiya seemed to imply that he’s introduced this mystery uncle to Yuuri before. He wished for the conversation to go elsewhere, because it was getting a little too boring—

But then Toshiya made the move to shift things a little, and Yuuri wished he _hadn’t_ asked for it.

“Do you mind if I asked you a question, _Yuuri-kun_?” Toshiya set aside his cutlery, grasping his hands together, fingers laced. “Who is the Duke of Kent to you?”

Yuuri suddenly wanted to ground to crack open and swallow him whole. He needed to melt, turn to vapour, and never return again. He wanted to be anything but be near his father while he was broaching the topic he so desperately tried to avoid.

He was _not_ ready.

“Is there something wrong?” Toshiya’s eyebrows furrowed, expression sealing away his thoughts like a dark curtain. Yuuri knew by then that his dad could appear one way and feel completely opposite to what he really did. He was the master of it.

There’s nothing Yuuri thought he could do but maintain his silence. It was the most awkward way, but it was the easiest. If thing were going to come to a point where he couldn’t stand it, he’d gladly step out and lock himself inside the bathroom, contemplate life, and never come out until the next day.

It was Toshiya, though, who finally broke the silence with a sigh. “Is there something you’re hiding from me?”

When Yuuri still refused to say anything, Toshiya suddenly decided he needed to take matters into his own hands.

“Is he hurting you?”

Yuuri’s eyes widened, suddenly mad at the insinuation of Viktor abusing him in anyway. His surprise turned to irritation, fast. “No,” he said; firm. “He would _never_.”

He could feel his heart pounding, his chest heavy with emotions unaccounted for. He’s yet to understand how he truly felt in that moment, because as it was happening, it was almost impossible to map how his mind and heart reacted.

“That’s good, then,” Toshiya said, nodding. “You do know you’re both public figures, don’t you?”

Bracing himself for the criticism, Yuuri weighed all the possible responses he had to make. Was he about to tell off his dad, the Emperor of Japan, to get off his case and let him be? Was he about to be told to stay away?

And yet, he all but imploded when Toshiya went on to say, “I would know what happens to you even if you didn’t tell me,” he said. “Imagine what your mother must have felt when she heard the news from reporters instead of you.”

“I—I don’t—I’ve told her,” Yuuri said, defenceless. “Already.”

“And you weren’t confident enough to tell me? That part, I understand. What confuses me is that you live closer to your mother than he to his and still Duchess Anna was the first to be properly introduced,” Toshiya said, almost uncharacteristically less-intimidating and rather more _shy_ ; His sentences wordier, hesitant, and less sure. Yuuri’s never seen this side of him before. “Maybe it’s because you’ve been raised as an American, but dear son, I’m still a traditional father who wants to know if you’re being treated right. Bring this young man to me and introduce him properly. You don’t have to hide.”

* * *

an invitation letter addressed to Prince Viktor, Duke of York

To celebrate the Birthday Anniversary of  
 _His Majesty the Emperor of Japan_

 _The Japanese Ambassador_  
requests the pleasure of your company  
at a reception on Saturday, July 16 th  
from 6 to 9 o’clock  
  
_RSVP_ | _Japanese Embassy_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes on what's mentioned:  
>  **1**. Most  fics/posts/usernames mentioned are fictional, so if I mentioned anyone that happened to write fics with the same title or have usernames similar to the the stuff, know that _I don't mean to offend you, truly_.  
>  **2**. However, some fics are real, like the ones labelled as mine. In this chapter, [Livin' On The Edge](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12950955/chapters/29603271) is an actual collab fic by [Clarinda0110](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarinda0110/pseuds/Clarinda0110) and [D_Toska](https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_Toska/pseuds/D_Toska) and it's finished a completed fic, too. You're welcome.  
>  **3**. For the invitation featured on the last part of this chapter, the wordings were directly taken from an [official invitation for the real-life Emperor of Japan's Birthday](http://www.formsofaddress.info/Emperor.html).  
>  **4**. I have no idea who qualifies to be written on a guest list for an Emperor's birthday celebrations, but then again I did tell you not to use this fic as reference to anything.
> 
>  
> 
> HMU @[anna-domini](https://anna-domini.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


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